PF  CHEE 

ARLES  H.  LERRIG 


wwMftnwiWiinwwffiiMi 


OF  THE 
UNIVEaSITY 
OF 


ifi•^v'.   ,,*l(^iZH]A, 


THE  CASTLE  OF  CHEER 


By 
Charles  H.  Lerrigo 


The  Castle  of  Cheer 
A  Tale  of  Optimism.      Illustrated,  cloth 
net  ^1.25 

A  story  dedicated  to  the  memory  of  Dr.  Ed- 
ward L.  Trudean,  centering  around  the  work  of 
an  institution  which  gives  its  title  to  the  book, 
and  well  deserves  it.  This  is  no  mere  tale  of  a 
clinic,  but  a  record  of  breezy  helpfulness,  in 
which  the  helped  and  the  helpers  take  on  the 
guise  of  real  men  and  women.  Old  Doc  Will- 
iams, hero  of  the  author's  previous  novel,  makes 
a  welcome  reappearance  in  this  story. 

Doc  Williams 

A  Tale   of  the   Middle  West.     Illus- 
trated       net  ;^ 1. 25 

"  The  homely  humor  of  the  old  doctor  and 
his  childlike  faith  in  *  the  cure  '  is  so  intensely 
human  that  he  captures  the  sympathy  of  the  lay- 
man at  once — a  sympathy  that  becomes  the 
deepest  sort  of  interest." — Topeka  Capital, 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

Microsoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/castleofcheerOOcharrich 


A  day  like  this,  snow  everywheres  and  a   Lcind  at  yore  back, 
is  fine  to  blow  away  heavy  thoughts,"  said  the  doctor. 

(Seep.  217) 


THE  CASTLE  OF  CHEER 


BY 

CHARLES  HENRY  LERRIGO 

Author  of  "Doc  Williams,*'  Etc. 


New  York  Chicago  Toronto 

Fleming    H.    Revell    Company 

London       and        Edinburgh 


Copyright,  191 6,  by 
FLEMING  H.  REVELL  COMPANY 


New  York:  158  FiftV  Avenue 
Chicago:  125  N.  Wabash  Ave. 
Toronto:  25  Richmond  St.,  W. 
London:  21  Paternoster  Square 
Edinburgh:   loo  Princes  Street 


CB5 


The  memory  of  Dr.  Edward  Livingston  Trudeau, 

undaunted  apostle  of  hope  and  cheer,  this  book 

is  humbly  dedicated. 


M667236 


CONTENTS 

I     Sentenced! 9 

II    Johnny  Langston  Sees  a  Fairy      .  15 

III  Entrance  Through  the  Back  Door  20 

IV  Mr.  Stroud  Meets  Doc  Williams  .  25 
V     The  Head  Nurse  at  The  Castle    .  29 

VI     "  Sound  as  a  Drum  **  .       .        .       .  36 

VII     Johnny  Brings  Back  the  Baby       .  44 

VIII     A  Bed  Patient 50 

IX     The  Other  Sister       ...        .58 

X     Milton  Stroud  Makes  His  Choice  60 
XI     "  Millions    of    Dollars    Left    to 

You!" 67 

XII    The  Bird  with  the  Broken  Pinion  74 

XIII  Doc  Gives  a  "  Perscription  "  .        .  81 

XIV  Quiet  but  Very  Nice        ...  88 
XV    A  Regular  Faith  Healer        .       .  98 

XVI    Advance  Fee — Two  Hundred  Dol- 
lars!             107 

XVII    LuiGi  Finds  the  Money     .       .       .112 

XVIII    The  Latham  "Weekly  Herald"   .  119 

XIX    One  Thousand  Dollars  Reward    .  126 

XX    Miss  Jolley  Offers  First  Aid  .       .  132 

XXI     Johnny  Langston  Interrupts         .  136 

XXII     Doctor  Middane  Visits  the  Castle  143 

XXIII       "  You   ARE   THE   GrEAT    DoCTOR    MiD- 

dane!" 148 

7 


; 

CONTENTS 

XXIV 

The    "Eyetalian"    Tackles   a 

Job  of  Work      .... 

154 

XXV 

The  Mysterious  Stranger  . 

161 

XXVI 

Muzzled  Germs     .... 

165 

XXVII 

A    Christmas    Gift    from    the 

Castle 

170 

XXVIII 

"  Get  Me  the  Money  " 

177 

XXIX 

An  Absurd  Scheme 

182 

XXX 

Willing  to  be  Kidnapped  . 

190 

XXXI 

The  Chase  of  the  Red  Touring- 

Car 

196 

XXXII 

Doctor  David  is  Just  in  Time  . 

205 

XXXIII 

A  Full  Pardon     .... 

215 

XXXIV 

Miss  Jolley  Wants  Her  Money 

Back 

224 

XXXV 

Mrs.  Smith  Prescribes  for  Her- 

self           

231 

XXXVI 

"Tell    Mary    to    Give    Him    a 

Chance '^ 

237 

XXXVII 

Henry   Vancil    Doane    Would 

Soar  Again        .... 

244 

CXXVIII 

Money  to  Give  Away  . 

249 

XXXIX 

Mr.    Langston    Celebrates    St. 

Valentine's  Day       .       . 

254 

XL 

'*  Keep  a-Hammerin*  "  .        .        . 

262 

XLI 

A  Honeymoon  in  Chicago  . 

267 

XLII 

Twenty-four  Hours'  Grace 

271 

XLIII 

Much  May  Happen  in  a  Day     . 

280 

XLIV 

Striking  Seven     .... 

286 

XLV 

And   Stroud   Knocked  at   the 

Door 

294 

XLVI 

Fourfold!       

301 

SENTENCED! 

SHUT  up  to  himself  Milton  Stroud  fought  for  a 
realization  of  his  condition,  strove  for  the  old- 
time,  confident  grip  that  would  face  matters 
boldly  and  set  them  right. 

His  study  was  quiet  with  the  evening  stillness  of  a 
house  in  which  all  have  learned  to  respect  the  studious 
master's  moods — but  the  quiet  did  not  soothe.  The 
familiar  cases  of  books  which  lined  the  walls  had  lost 
their  friendly  aspect,  they  were  now  but  a  weariness 
to  the  flesh.  The  unanswered — even  unopened — let- 
ters of  the  day  lay  in  an  untidy  heap;  correspondence 
held  none  of  the  piquant  interest  of  old — ^he  loathed 
the  thought  of  it.  One  thing  only  really  mattered,  and 
that  thing  his  mind  refused  to  grasp. 

Six — nearly  seven — years  had  the  young  minister 
here  laboured  with  and  for  the  tasks  of  his  life.  He 
had  given  himself  without  limit;  lived  his  life  with  a 
full  day  beginning  each  early  morning  and  crowding 
well  into  the  night;  feasted  on  problems  of  work; 
eaten  up  its  difficulties;  and  now  when  accomplishment 
lay  in  his  hand  it  had  suddenly  lost  its  savour. 

Accomplishment !  What,  after  all,  had  these  years 
given  of  real  accomplishment  ?  Visions  flocked  in  dis- 
orderly procession  through  his  wearied  mind  as  the 
tired  head  rested  in  those  languid  hands. 

He  recalled  the  work  of  his  very  first  day  in  Chi- 
cago.   His  real  life  work  began  that  day  when  he  stood 

9 


10  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

at  the  intersection  of  four  of  the  city's  busiest  streets 
and  seeing  the  multitude  was  moved  with  compassion. 
What  a  countless  throng  they  formed  as  they  rushed 
along,  walked  along,  idled  at  windows,  hesitated  at 
crossings,  chatted,  laughed,  sped  by  in  silence  or  some- 
times whined  doleful  complainings.  The  young  min- 
ister, on  his  way  to  talk  to  the  outcasts  of  life  at  the 
Salvation  Army  Home,  felt  the  welfare  of  these  count- 
less people  settle  its  weight  upon  him  as  one  called  to 
be  an  apostle. 

When  at  last  he  stood  at  the  little  table  in  the  dreary 
hall  of  the  institution  he  saw  not  a  miserable  handful 
of  the  down  and  out,  but  the  vanguard  of  a  great,  ad- 
vancing host  of  the  starved  at  heart,  to  whom  he  must 
minister  and  whose  wants  he  must  supply.  The  words 
that  fell  from  his  lips  that  night  were  as  those  that 
came  when  the  heavens  opened,  and  the  unfortunates 
who  heard  them  were  uplifted  as  they  who  perceived 
the  heavenly  vision.  The  tongues  of  fire  in  that  hum- 
ble room  marked  a  new  life  to  some — they  marked  also 
the  beginning  of  the  unceasing  purpose  and  incidentally 
the  increasing  fame  of  Milton  Stroud. 

But  the  man  who  sat  now  struggling  in  weary 
retrospect  knew  none  of  the  results  of  that  first  com- 
mission. He  knew  not  what  it  had  brought  to  his 
hearers — ^least  of  all  that  there  were  two  to  whom  it 
meant  the  most  sacred  hour  of  life.  And  both  because 
it  serves  to  show  how  little  a  weary,  disheartened  man 
is  able  to  estimate  his  own  work,  and  in  order  to  supply 
a  prologue  to  certain  important  happenings  yet  to 
come  in  Milton  Stroud's  career,  we  will  tell,  briefly,  of 
these  two. 

They  were  among  the  crowd  of  listeners,  but  not  of 
it.    Father  and  daughter,  they  sat  there  a  little  apart,  in 


SENTENCED !  11 

distinguished  retirement  as  became  those  who  were 
among  the  patrons — financial  patrons — of  a  world- 
wide uplift  movement.  The  preacher  had  no  shadow 
of  thought  that  his  message  contained  aught  for  the 
distinguished,  grey-haired  gentleman  and  aristocratic, 
richly-clad  young  woman  who  were  so  evidently  spec- 
tators rather  than  audience.  As  a  matter  of  fact  he 
knew  not  whose  quivering  conscience  the  sharp  arrows 
of  his  message  would  pierce.  He  was,  for  the  time, 
only  a  voice — the  voice  of  one  crying  in  the  wilderness 
of  sin.  He  had  gone  from  the  place  and  back  to  his 
home,  unknowing,  before  any  sign  came  from  this  man 
and  his  daughter. 

But  the  sign  came  and  in  revolutionary  power. 

"  The  half  of  my  goods  I  give  to  the  poor  and  if  I 
have  wrongfully  exacted  aught  of  any  man  I  restore 
fourfold!" 

Thus  spake  the  man  who  had  long  stood  before  the 
world  as  a  standard  of  righteousness,  yet  had  known 
in  his  heart  that  he  was  a  whited  sepulchre  and  that  his 
gains  were  made  by  others'  pains.  His  daughter  ac- 
quiesced, though  she  had  never  so  much  as  known  how 
the  wealth  she  spent  so  freely  came  to  her  hands  or 
those  of  her  father.  Her  own  heart  was  tender  and 
sore  at  the  time,  for  but  a  short  time  before  she  had 
learned  that  the  young  man  to  whom  she  had  pledged 
all  the  promise  of  her  budding  womanhood  was  un- 
worthy of  her  trust,  and  in  the  freshness  of  her  grief 
she  felt  that  the  whole  world  was  nothing  to  lose. 

That  night,  as  if  God  had  been  giving  him  one  last 
chance  and  was  well  pleased  that  he  had  taken  it,  the 
eminent  man  of  business  was  taken  from  his  house  of 
clay,  his  program  left  unfinished,  the  gratification  of 
restitution  never  to  be  his. 


n  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

^  jtitution !  How  seldom  is  it  possible !  The  creep- 
ing branches  of  our  evil  run  hither  and  yon,  the  off- 
shoots grown  far  beyond  our  control.  The  rich  man 
had  a  partner — a  man  whom  he  himself  had  made  and 
who,  with  his  son,  had  long  had  active  conduct  of  the 
business.  When  the  daughter,  seeking  to  follow  her 
father's  wishes,  brought  them  to  this  partner,  she  found 
that  he  was  of  a  different  mind.  So  different,  indeed, 
was  his  mind,  that  by  some  manipulation  he  was  able 
to  prove  very  definitely  that  the  rich  man,  dead,  had 
nothing  to  restore;  that  he  had  no  possessions,  that  the 
daughter  had  none,  for  there  was  nothing  left  to  her ; 
that  all  of  the  business  and  all  of  its  assets  were  his  and 
his  alone. 

Yet  the  words  of  the  preacher  had  not  been  spoken 
in  vain  though  more  than  six  years  had  passed  without 
a  fulfilment  of  the  rich  man's  promise.  None  of  the 
toil  of  that  six  years  had  been  in  vain,  little  as  the 
wearied  worker  dared  claim  for  it.  Looking  back  the 
years  had  been  brief  and  barren.  Yet  he  had  been 
constantly  called  from  one  service  to  another  and  will- 
ingly had  he  made  bare  his  chest  for  the  pull,  and 
squared  his  shoulders  to  the  burden. 

It  was  just  lately  that  these  moods  of  fickle  temper  had 
come  to  one  who  had  known  no  moods ;  that  this  look 
of  care  and  weariness  had  creased  the  brow  hitherto 
unruffled;  that  these  nights  of  restlessness  had  left  him 
nerveless  and  weak;  that  his  cold,  which  hung  so  per- 
sistently, had  made  him  cough  at  such  inopportune 
times.  His  friends  were  even  more  disturbed  than  he. 
They  talked  of  vacation,  of  a  long  rest,  of  a  trip  to 
Europe.  Stroud  laughed  at  them  as  long  as  possible. 
But  he  had  spent  this  day  seeking  the  verdict  of  author- 
ity, getting  an  examination  from  an  eminent  specialist. 


SENTENCED !  IS 

Did  you  ever  wait  your  turn  in  a  doctor's  reception 
room  when  the  whole  world  was  at  stake  ?  Not  just  an 
impatient  visit  for  medicine  for  some  trifling  ailment, 
but  real  waiting  for  a  verdict,  and  possibly  a  sentence. 
The  passage  of  time  counts  for  little,  for  these  may 
be  the  very  last  unsentenced  minutes  that  you  will  ever 
have.  After  you  have  met  that  man  in  the  next  room, 
after  he  has  looked  you  over,  and  listened  to  your  chest 
and  taken  your  blood  pressure  and  examined  a  few 
little  slides  under  a  microscope — after  all  this  and  a 
few  spoken  words,  you  are  to  be  as  one  set  apart  on 
this  earth,  for  he  will  tell  you  that  you  are  to  live 
just  so  long — perhaps  not  to  a  day  or  a  week,  but 
scarcely  longer.  And  what  is  the  lapse  of  a  half-hour's 
time  when  you  wait  in  dread  to  hear  such  as  this  ? 

The  burden  of  Chicago's  multitudes  had  almost 
slipped  from  Stroud's  shoulders,  and  he  was  just  a 
man  waiting  for  his  sentence  when  at  last  the  attendant 
waved  him  to  the  awful  presence,  and  said  presence 
promptly  dispelled  all  thoughts  of  awe  by  its  common 
everyday  greeting. 

"  Why,  hello,  Stroud,"  spoke  the  rather  jolly  voice. 
"  I  hope  you  haven't  been  wearing  yourself  out  on 
those  waiting-room  chairs." 

"  I  waited  my  turn,"  replied  Stroud. 

"  And  that  may  have  meant  an  hour.  The  girl  ought 
to  have  known  better.  What  can  I  do  for  you  to- 
day ?  "  The  presence  smiled  as  he  significantly  reached 
for  his  cheque-book. 

"  No,  it's  the  other  way  round,  to-day.  I  came  to 
fill  your  pocket  rather  than  empty  it.  I  am  feeling  all 
run  down.  Some  of  my  people  seem  rather  excited 
about  it.  I  want  you  to  give  me  a  little  tonic  to  tide 
me  over  until  my  vacation  next  month.'* 


14  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

"  What  do  you  know  about  tonics,  Mr.  Stroud  ?  '\ 
"  I  don't  know  anything  about  them." 
"  Why  prescribe  them  for  yourself,  then  ?  " 
"  No  reason  at  all.    The  fact  is,  I've  heard  so  many 
terrible  hints  from  my  people  lately,  and  I've  sat  so 
long  in  that  waiting-room  conjuring  up  death  and  dis- 
aster, that  the  most  pleasant  thing  I  could  think  of  was 
a  bitter  tonic.    So  I  thought  I'd  suggest  it." 

"  Well,  don't  talk  nonsense  to  a  doctor.  Now  sit 
down  and  tell  me  about  how  you  feel  and  how  long 
you've  had  any  feehngs." 

The  waiting-room  congestion  thickeped  while  this 
conference  ran  away  with  precious  minutes,  but  Stroud 
noticed  no  flight  of  time.  When  the  doctor  at  last 
opened  the  side  door  for  his  exit,  he  handed  him  no 
medicine. 

"I'm  not  going  to  argue  things  with  you,  Mr. 
Stroud,"  he  said.  "  I've  told  you  what  your  trouble  is. 
Here's  my  prescription  in  this  envelope.  Open  it 
when  you  get  home.  Then  lose  no  time  in  getting  it 
filled." 

The  significant  words  told  Stroud  that  this  was  no 
ordinary  prescription  of  drugs  to  be  taken  at  conveni- 
ent intervals.  He  knew  well  that  it  meant  the  wrench- 
ing away  from  everything  worth  while.  So  he  sat  long 
in  his  lonely  thoughts  until,  finding  that  his  dreary 
retrospect  helped  him  not  at  all,  he  tore  open  the  en- 
velope and  the  sentence  lay  before  him. 

"  Get  some  fellow  to  lift  Chicago  from  your  shoul- 
ders. Go  to  my  friends  at  Latham  Centre  (card  is 
enclosed.  Ask  for  either  Doctor  Goodman  or  Doctor 
Williams).  By  the  way,  they  call  their  place  'The 
Castle  of  Cheer.'  In  this  case  the  cheer  is  for  you. 
I  give  you  three  days  to  get  to  it." 


II 

JOHNNY  LANGSTON  SEES  A  FAIRY 

JOHN  CALHOUN  LANGSTON,  returning  to 
Latham  Centre  in  the  rear  Pullman  of  the  over- 
land express,  knew  nothing  of  the  Chicago  doctor. 
Yet  he  felt  sure  that  the  tired  man  with  the  flushed 
face,  big,  dark  eyes,  and  mellow  voice,  who  sought 
information  about  Latham  Centre  and  The  Castle  was 
making  a  prescription  journey.  His  usual  generous 
disposition  warmed  by  the  pleasure  of  home-coming, 
Johnny  was  very  glad  to  be  of  service. 

"  You  will  find  the  purest  air  in  the  world  and  the 
balmiest  odour,''  he  assured  the  stranger  in  generous 
enthusiasm. 

The  tired  man  gave  a  weary  smile  at  the  vigour 
of  his  language.  "You  must  be  a  resident,"  said 
he. 

"  Worse  than  that,"  asserted  Johnny.  "  I  am  a 
charter  member.  I  was  in  it  before  it  was  a  Centre — 
only  a  Corners.    In  fact  I  was  born  there." 

"  You  are  certainly  a  striking  testimonial.  I  feel  a 
little  more  hopeful  just  to  look  at  you." 

"  You'll  have  lots  better  help  than  I  can  give  you," 
replied  Johnny.  The  train  pulled  into  the  station  as  he 
spoke.  "  I'll  take  you  right  out  to  The  Castle.  It's 
about  three  miles." 

It  was  not  Johnny's  fault  that  he  failed  to  fulfil  his 
promise.     A  handsome  grey  automobile  waited  for 

15 


16  THE    CASTLE    OF   CHEER 

him,  and  after  greeting  a  few  waiting  people,  he  turned 
to  invite  the  stranger  to  ride  out  to  the  sanatorium, 
but  he  had  disappeared. 

Johnny  drove  his  car  slowly  along  the  smooth  pave- 
ment of  Latham  Centre's  principal  street,  his  eye  tak- 
ing in  such  changes  as  had  occurred  in  his  absence. 
Near  the  door  of  The  Inn  (the  sanatorium  conducted 
by  Doctor  Goodman  since  Doc  Williams  had  moved 
out  to  The  Castle)  he  suddenly  slipped  his  clutch  and 
the  car  came  to  a  stop.  An  unusual  emotion  gripped 
his  interest,  unusual  not  in  its  variety  but  in  its  inten- 
sity. At  the  door  of  The  Inn  waited  the  carryall  of  old 
Doctor  Williams.  Many  times  had  Johnny  viewed  it 
since  it  had  superseded  the  old  buggy,  and  many  times 
had  it  contained  goodness  and  mercy  and  truth,  but 
never  before  had  he  seen  it  carry  such  a  load  of  posi- 
tive loveliness.  His  limp  foot  slipped  from  the  clutch 
pedal  in  his  amazement.  Instantly  the  clutch  came  into 
play  and  the  massive  car  leaped  forward  to  the  curb. 
But  in  a  second  the  driver  woke  from  his  trance,  and 
jamming  hard  down  on  clutch  and  brake  resumed  con- 
trol before  serious  damage  was  done.  Only  it  had 
startled  the  team  enough  to  get  them  under  way,  and 
his  lovely  vision  was  carried  out  of  view. 

Johnny  shut  off  his  motor  and  walked  over  to  Mrs. 
Goodman,  who  stood  at  the  door  of  The  Inn  watching 
the  vanishing  vehicle. 

"  Johnny  Langston !  "  she  cried.  "  Fm  glad  to  see 
you  again  even  if  you  were  clumsy.  When  did  you 
get  home?  " 

"About  five  minutes  ago  and  not  a  moment  too 
soon.  I  have  been  wasting  precious  time  away  from 
here,  Mrs.  Goodman.    Where  does  she  live?  " 

"  Why  so  fast,  Johnny  ?    Why  this  strenuous  haste  ? 


JOHNNY  LANGSTON  SEES  A  FAIRY       17 

There  were  two  she's.  Didn't  their  dress  tell  you  they 
were  nurses?  " 

"  There  was  but  one  for  me,  my  dear  Lady.  And 
her  dress  was  the  one  thing  that  quite  escaped  my  ob- 
servation. I'm  sure  she  wore  no  hat.  She  had  golden 
hair,  wavy  and  bright;  her  eyes  also  were  bright  and 
the  blue  of  them  was  like  the  sapphire;  there  was  sun- 
shine in  her  face  and  an  aureole  of  joy  surrounding 
her.    Tell  me  where  I  may  find  her." 

"  Johnny  Langston,  that  young  lady  is  a  friend 
of  mine,  and  I  will  not  have  you  making  flippant 
remarks." 

"  Flippant !  Flippant  remarks.  My  dear  Lady,  this 
is  the  first  time  in  my  whole  life  that  I  have  uttered 
anything  so  very  earnest.  Tell  me  quickly.  Where 
shall  I  find  her?" 

*'  Where  are  you  apt  to  find  nurses?  " 

"  Any  of  these  new  institutions  may  have  nurses. 
It  means  nothing.  But  she  was  in  the  old  doctor's 
carryall.     Let  me  hope  that  she  is  with  him." 

'*  You  may  hope." 

"  Then  let  us  go  right  out  there,  Lady.  It  is  a  beau- 
tiful day  and  you  will  be  greatly  benefited  by  the  ride. 
Let  me  give  you  a  treat  in  my  new  car." 

**  I  have  had  one  treat  to-day,  Johnny.  I  have  been 
out  with  my  doctor  and  have  spent  all  the  time  riding 
that  I  can  spare.    I  must  go  in  to  my  baby." 

"  Bring  the  baby  with  you.  Lady.  Children  are 
greatly  benefited  by  fresh  air.  The  infant  death  rate 
has  decreased  wonderfully  since  the  general  use  of 
automobiles.  Your  baby  is  in  his  second  summer, 
you  know,  and  you  can't  be  too  careful  about  him." 

But  the  Lady  was  proof  against  such  pleading. 

**  You  are  quite  silly,  Johnny,  making  all  this  fuss 


18  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

about  a  girl  whose  face  you  have  seen  just  once.     I 
would  be  ashamed  to  be  a  party  to  such  nonsense." 

'*  You  wouldn't  if  you  felt  as  I  do  about  it,  Mrs. 
Goodman.  Do  you  believe  love  to  be  a  matter  of  care- 
ful selection;  weighing  this  virtue  against  that  defect 
and  so  forth,  striking  a  balance  and  then  inviting  it  to 
come  on  if  all  is  favourable  ?  " 

'*  Of  course  I  don't,"  she  indignantly  disclaimed. 

"  Don't  you  think  it  is  heaven-born,  and  comes  like 
a  flash  whether  you  will  or  no?  " 

"  Something  of  that  kind,  I  suppose." 

"  That  is  the  way  mine  came.  Lady.  Like  a  flash. 
You  know  how  long  a  flash  takes  ?  That  is  how  quick 
mine  came." 

"  But,  Johnny,  to  tell  this  to  me !  Do  you  think  I 
have  forgotten  the  others?  Did  they  also  go  like  a 
flash?" 

"  There  are  no  others,"  disdainfully  Johnny  re- 
pudiated the  suggestion.  "  There  never  were  any 
others.  Friendships  and  fancies  I  have  had ;  associa- 
tions which  came  by  constant  companionship  or  by 
exclusion  from  all  other  company,  or  by  propinquity  or 
something  of  that  kind.  But  nothing  like  this — a  swift 
flash  out  of  a  clear  sky — a  powerful  bolt  from  heaven; 
there  has  been  nothing  in  any  way  resembling  it! 
There  never  will  be  anything  like  it  again.  I  want  to 
do  the  thing  decently.  Will  you  go  with  me  to  per- 
form a  proper  introduction  if  I  wait  until  evening?  " 

"  ril  think  about  it,  Johnny.  I'll  almost  venture  to 
say  ril  do  it.  Doctor  Goodman  is  to  go  out  to  examine 
a  new  patient  who  is  expected ;  and  we  will  let  you  take 
the  whole  family." 

Content,  Johnny  went  back  to  his  car.  Evening  was 
but  a  few  hours  away.    He  could  give  a  certain  share 


JOHNNY  LANGSTON  SEES  A  FAIRY       19 

of  his  attention  to  some  business  matters  for  that 
length  of  time.  In  the  meantime,  trudging  drearily 
along  the  highway  to  the  sanatorium,  its  proprietor, 
inmates  and  nurses,  was  the  weary  young  man  of  the 
Pullman. 


Ill 

ENTRANCE  THROUGH  THE  BACK  DOOR 

THE  stranger  with  the  weary  eyes  and  melodious 
voice  had  plenty  of  opportunity  to  ride  to  The 
Castle  of  Cheer.  There  were  several  hacks,  an 
automobile  livery,  and,  had  he  but  known  it,  The  Cas- 
tle's very  own  carryall  was  in  town  and  would  have 
been  at  the  station  had  the  team  not  been  frightened 
through  the  carelessness  of  an  automobile  driver.  But 
he  would  have  none  of  them.  He  had  no  desire  to 
approach  the  place  in  the  regular  way.  He  dreaded 
approaching  it  in  any  way.  And  he  positively  would 
not  go  there  committed  as  a  patient — one  bound  hand 
and  foot  and  delivered  beyond  chance  of  compromise. 
Let  him  steal  up  a  by-path  and  reconnoitre. 

The  road  was  dusty,  the  sun  was  hot,  a  dank,  pene- 
trating odour  crowded  the  atmosphere.  There  was  no 
joy  in  his  heart;  there  was  only  languor  in  his  limbs; 
there  was  fever  in  his  blood. 

A  farmer's  well  tempted  his  thirsty  throat  but  he 
would  not  allow  himself  to  step  aside  and  only  trudged 
doggedly  on.  If  he  thought  such  opportunities  would 
be  available  at  any  time  he  made  a  mistake,  for  the 
wells  along  this  road  were  mostly  oil  wells  and  the 
farmers  had  withdrawn  themselves  back  into  the  coun- 
try. 

Walking  a  rapid  if  erratic  gait  no  company  over- 
took him,  for  most  of  the  traffic  consisted  of  slow- 
moving  teams  hauling  heavy  wagons   or  oil  tanks 


ENTRANCE  THROUGH  THE  BACK  DOOR   21 

through  the  thick  dust.  Occasionally  a  town-going 
driver  met  him  and  passed  the  time  of  day.  It  was 
from  one  such  that  he  received  directions  which  in- 
duced him  to  leave  the  main  road  and  strike  off  along 
a  pathway  through  the  fields. 

It  was  better  here.  He  was  rising  into  a  different 
atmosphere.  The  smell  disappeared  and  every  step 
that  he  trod  carried  him  out  of  the  dreary  spell  of  the 
oilfields.  Very  quickly  he  was  gazing  on  a  scene  of 
beauty  that  would  have  delighted  him  had  he  not  been 
so  desperately  starved  and  weary.  The  grass  was  green 
and  some  trees  offered  cooling  shade.  Instead  of  the 
black  ooze  which,  beneath  a  deceptive  cover  of  dust, 
lay  treacherous  in  the  ditches  of  the  road,  there  trickled 
along  by  the  hedge  a  brook  of  clear  water. 

But  at  last  he  reached  the  condition  where  his  right 
foot  refused  to  precede  his  left,  where  his  arms  would 
swing  no  longer  but  hung  listless  at  his  side,  where  he 
was  obliged  to  sink  in  the  shadow  of  the  hedge.  And 
there  he  dozed. 

How  long  he  slept  matters  little.  Voices  awakened 
him;  voices  and  an  odour  of  food.  Peeping  through 
the  hedge  he  saw  a  cheerful  party  gathered  in  the  grati- 
fying shade  of  a  clump  of  trees.  They  were  evidently 
enjoying  a  picnic.  Some  baskets  lay  on  the  ground, 
their  contents  having  been  spread  out  on  a  newspaper 
tablecloth.  A  jar  of  clear  water  was  delicately  poised 
on  the  forearm  of  a  jolly-looking  fat  man  as  he  care- 
fully restrained  its  contents  from  bubbling  too  gush- 
ingly into  his  glass. 

It  was  the  water  that  decided  the  weary  trav- 
eller. He  pushed  his  way  through  the  gap  in  the 
hedge. 

*' Forgive  me  for  intruding,"  he  apologized;  "but 


^2  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

I  am  so  parched  for  a  drink  that  I  am  bound  to  beg  it 
of  you." 

"  Not  at  all,  not  at  all,"  the  fat  man  assured  him; 
but  as  his  pleasant  smile  did  not  coincide  with  any 
such  relentless  decision  it  is  possible  that  he  meant  the 
opposite.  His  action  in  passing  the  glass  filled  for  him- 
self confirmed  this  view. 

When  the  traveller  had  drained  the  glass  he  handed  it 
back  with  a  grateful  smile.  "  Delicious ! "  he  ex- 
claimed.   "  I  never  tasted  anything  half  so  good." 

"  You  must  take  a  little  lunch  with  us,"  invited  the 
fat  man.  "  You  need  it,  I  can  see  easily.  Sit  right 
down  now  and  don't  say  a  word." 

"  That  would  be  too  great  an  imposition,"  the 
stranger  protested. 

"  It  won't  be  an  imposition  at  all,"  insisted  the  fat 
man.  "You  will  do  us  a  favour.  It  is  a  cardinal 
principle  of  the  Chaser's  Club  that  no  stranger  shall 
cross  our  paths  without  a  welcome." 

"  Your  kindness  is  quite  overwhelming,"  murmured 
the  stranger.  "  I  don't  know  that  I  ever  met  quite  such 
a  club." 

"  We  claim  to  be  unique  in  some  things,"  grinned 
the  fat  man.  "  One  of  them  is  an  entire  absence  of 
exclusiveness.  We  wish  we  always  found  as  cordial 
a  welcome  as  we  give." 

"  It  would  be  an  unjust  person  who  would  hesitate  to 
accord  it." 

"  The  world  is  full  of  them,  my  friend.  Sit  down 
here  now  and  get  hold  of  a  drumstick.  This  picnic  has 
scarcely  begun  yet.  I  think  I  will  place  you  between 
myself  and  Miss  Jolley,  who  will  assist  you  on  the  left 
while  I  attend  to  the  right." 

It  was  a  good  place  for  a  famished  person.    Miss 


ENTRANCE  THROUGH  THE  BACK  DOOR   23 

Jolley  was  of  the  capable,  comfortable  type  that  can 
turn  a  formal  meal  into  a  picnic  or  make  a  picnic  better 
than  a  formal  meal  with  equal  facility.  There  was 
good  humour  in  her  little  body  and  she  had  lived 
enough  years  to  know  better  than  pen  it  up,  though, 
her  thoughts  having  a  much  greater  range  than  her 
vocabulary,  it  was  often  trammelled  by  orthodox 
methods  of  expression. 

"  Eat,  man.  It's  a  pleasure  to  see  you,"  she  insisted. 
''  Not  that  Fm  watching,  being  better  brought  up,  I 
hope." 

The  traveller  felt  his  spirits  and  courage  revive  under 
the  stimulating  refreshment  and  company. 

"  This  is  certainly  grand,"  he  murmured. 

"  Ain't  it?  "  agreed  Miss  Jolley,  alert  at  once.  "  I 
don't  know  when  I've  ate  better  chicken — or  perhaps 
it's  the  salad  you  favour.  The  landscape !  Oh,  good- 
ness, yes.  It's  grand  enough.  Let  me  give  you  some 
grape  jell.  Made  it  with  my  own  delicate  fingers. 
Honest!" 

"  It  certainly  looks  good,"  said  Stroud.  "  Its  colour 
is  exquisite." 

"  Its  taste  is  exquisiter  and  that's  what  counts  with 
a  man,  I  guarantee,"  Miss  Jolley  opined.  "  And  a 
slice  o'  this  cake.  It  certainly  is  the  best  cake! 
Honest!" 

Milton  Stroud  scrambled  to  his  feet  and  brushed  the 
crumbs  from  his  clothing  with  a  contented  sigh. 

"  Let  me  show  you  around  a  little,"  volunteered  the 
fat  man. 

The  spot  of  the  picnic  supper  was  slightly  elevated 
and  the  young  man  looked  out  over  a  very  pleasant 
country.  A  little  to  one  side  at  some  distance  a  group 
of  players  were  following  the  uncertain  gambols  of  the 


M  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

golf  ball  over  its  hazardous  course;  somewhat  nearer  he 
could  see  tennis  nets;  as  they  strolled  out  of  the  shade 
of  the  trees  the  grass  was  yet  cool  about  their  feet. 

He  heaved  a  sigh  of  pleasure. 

"  It  is  all  very  beautiful  and  restful,"  he  said.  "  I 
am  very  thankful  to  all  of  you  for  your  hospitality.  I 
would  like  to  inscribe  my  gratitude  upon  your  records. 
The  building  whose  roofs  I  see  yonder  is  the  club- 
house, no  doubt." 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  club-house." 

"  You  are  to  be  both  congratulated  and  envied. 
Everything  here  breathes  of  peace  and  rest." 

"  You  are  right.  It  is  the  most  peaceful  place  in 
the  country." 

"  Peace  is  what  I  want,"  cried  the  traveller.  "  I 
don't  care  for  any  cure  other  than  peace  and  rest.  I 
wish  I  might  stay  here.  But  I  must  push  on  before 
dark.  I  am  looking  for  the  sanatorium, — the  sana- 
torium conducted  by  old  Doctor  Williams." 

The  fat  man  laughed  uproariously. 

"  Good  enough,"  he  cried,  slapping  his  knee  ener- 
getically. "  You  thought  you  were  being  entertained 
by  the  Chaser's  Club.  You  are.  We  are  all  in  it.  Our 
full  name  is  the  Cure  Chasers.  We  have  our  picnics 
because  we  must  walk  out  in  the  open  and  this  takes 
off  the  monotony.  You  are  right  on  the  Castle  grounds 
this  very  minute !    You  sneaked  in  the  back  way." 


IV 

MR.  STROUD  MEETS  DOC  WILLIAMS 

THE  explanation  came  at  the  right  time.  Very 
soon  followed  scenes  which  spoke  the  character 
of  the  institution,  suggestive  but  not  un- 
pleasant: a  few  people  in  wheel-chairs,  a  scattering 
row  of  cots,  soon  a  quadrangle  of  small  cottages,  and 
at  last  a  handsome  building  with  porticoes  and  pil- 
lars and  porches  and  great  windows,  and  a  flag  wav- 
ing at  its  summit. 

It  did  not  look  so  very  formidable.  The  people  did 
not  look  very  formidable.  The  nurses,  really  the  most 
imposing  people  of  the  whole  institution,  did  not  look 
very  formidable.  And  last  of  all  came  the  old  doctor, 
who  looked  in  no  degree  formidable. 

The  doctor  was  getting  well  on  in  years,  but  his 
vigorous  manhood  spoke  of  ripeness  rather  than  de- 
cline. He  himself  best  knew  how  long  he  had  passed 
the  seventy  mark.  Blessed  with  stalwart  health  and  a 
heart  at  peace  with  the  world,  Time  laid  on  him  noth- 
ing to  bend  his  shoulders  or  dim  his  eye. 

As  the  laughing  group  approached  he  seemed  to  find 
a  word  for  each  and  every  one. 

"  It's  fine  for  you  as  is  able  to  get  out  and  exercise. 
Don't  f  urgit  a  little  visit  to  them  as  can't,  soon  as  ye  git 
cleaned  up  an'  rested.  Clean  up  fust.  One  reason  'at 
folks  feels  better  Sundays  is  because  the  good  clothes 
an'  clean  shaves  makes  everybuddy  look  better,  ye  un- 

^5 


26  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

derstan'  me.  Plumb  wonderful  what  a  good  bath  an' 
a  fresh  suit  '11  do  to  make  a  sick  man  look  well." 

His  keen  eye  took  in  the  stranger  at  once,  but  he 
made  no  move  toward  him  until  the  crowd  had  dis- 
appeared. Then  he  turned  on  him  a  face  full  of  smiles 
and  chuckles. 

"  Jes'  like  a  lot  o'  great  childern !  '*  he  commented. 
"But  it's  good  for  'em.  It's  good  for  'em.  Ain't 
nothin'  any  nearer  to  innocence  than  a  little  child,  ye 
understan'  me.  Ain't  nobody  can  get  over  grief  so 
easy  nor  be  quite  as  hopeful  of  to-morrow.  The  nearer 
ye  get  to  that  class  the  less  ye'll  have  to  weigh  ye  down 
an'  the  quicker  ye'll  throw  it  off." 

"  I  suppose  you  mean  that  for  me,  too?  "  asked  the 
traveller. 

"  You,  too,"  affirmed  the  doctor.  "  Name's  Stroud, 
ain't  it?" 

"  Quite  right.    You  were  expecting  me?  " 

"  We've  been  most  mightily  expectin'  you.  Every 
time  the  mail  comes  in  some  o'  them  Chicago  people 
as  knowed  you  was  comin'  writes  me  a  letter  to  tell  me 
to  be  good  to  ye.  It's  to  make  up  for  what  they  ain't 
been,  I  reckon.  Up  here,  now,  we'll  learn  ye  how  to 
be  good  to  yourself." 

"  I'm  glad  my  people  are  so  thoughtful,"  Stroud 
smilingly  responded. 

"  It's  fine,  ain't  it  ?  "  The  doctor  smiled  enthusiasm. 
"  It  helps  a  lot  to  know  how  much  folks  care.  Some 
as  comes  here  thinks  nobuddy  cares  an'  I  have  hard 
work  with  'em  till  I  git  'em  to  see  what  a  liar  the  old 
devil  is  for  telling  'em  such  stuff,  ye  understan'  me. 
But  you're  one  as  knows  that  lots  o'  people  cares, 
an'  if  they  didn't  care  quite  as  soon  as  they  might  mebbe 
they  ain't  altogether  to  blame," 


MR.  STROUD  MEETS  DOC  WILLIAMS       27 

"  No,  it  was  my  own  fault,'*  Stroud  admitted. 

"  Don't  blame  yourself.  Don't  blame  nobody. 
T won't  do  no  good.  Forget  it  all.  Ye've  come  to  The 
Castle  a  purpose  to  forget." 

"  But  I  hated  to  come." 

"  I  know  ye  did.  Most  of  *em  do.  They*s  some 
demon  of  unrest  gits  a  holt  of  'em  'at  tells  'em  they 
can't  give  up.  The  world  won't  move  jest  right  if  they 
drops  out.  All  these  schemes  an'  plans  an'  ambitions 
that's  been  in  their  heads  an'  their  hearts  so  long  is 
goin'  to  come  to  nothin',  ye  under stan'  me." 

"  They  do,  too,"  interpolated  Stroud. 

"  Well,  mebbe  they  do,  an'  mebbe  it's  jest  as  well. 
One  thing  sure  they  have  to  let  go  of  'em.  That's 
one  reason  they  git  well  s'  much  better  here  than  ever 
they  can  at  home.  The  air's  mighty  nice  an'  soft  an' 
pleasant  up  here  but  'tain't  s'  much  different  f 'm  what 
most  of  'em  gits  at  home.  The  food  we  put  out  is  cal- 
lated  to  make  good  flesh  an'  blood,  an*  our  cook  gits  it 
up  fine,  an'  our  nurses  gives  'em  jest  whatever' s  best, 
but  'tain't  s'  much  better  'n  what  lots  of  'em  gits  at 
home,  ye  understan'  me.  They  don't  do  a  lick  o'  work 
here  but  some  on  'em  could  drop  work  'thout  comin' 
here.  But  the  difference  is  in  the  other  things  'at  they 
drops.    That's  what  I  have  to  learn  'em." 

"  Are  they  apt  pupils  ?    Do  they  learn  well  ?  " 

"  Some  on  'em  early  an'  some  late  but  most  of  'em 
learns.  All  these  schemes,  all  these  plans,  all  these 
ideas,  jest  the  very  blood  o'  life  to  'em;  arter  they  been 
here  awhiles  the  schemes  seems  not  quite  so  important, 
awhiles  longer  an'  they  ain't  so  familiar,  a  little  while 
more  an'  they's  a  strangeness  about  'em  an'  they  don't 
seem  to  amount  to  much  nohow,  an'  by  the  time  their 
bodies  is  takin'  on  new,  sound  tissue,  their  minds  is 


^8  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

takin'  on  new,  sound  ideas  an'  they  begins  to  see  what's 
really  worth  livin'  for,  ye  understan'  me.  We're  most 
mighty  disappointed  if  they  goes  home  without  a  bigger 
point  o'  view,  as  well  as  a  bigger  body;  we  are." 

"  I  hope  I'll  take  on  a  broader  viewpoint,"  Stroud 
smilingly  assented.  *'  But  of  course  I  can't  stay  here 
many  weeks  to  do  it.    Two  months  is  my  limit." 

"  That's  another  idee  you'll  have  to  lose,  son,"  the 
old  man  calmly  assured  him.  **  You  preachers  limits 
Almighty  God  'bout  as  bad  as  anybody.  You  just 
think  His  work  can't  by  no  means  go  on  less'en  you're 
right  there  to  watch  it.  Jest  as  well  lose  the  idee,  son. 
Yo're  here  now,  an'  yo're  goin'  to  stay  here  jest  as  long 
as  we  need  to  keep  ye.  When  ye  go  f 'm  here  we  cal- 
late  to  send  a  well  man  back  to  yore  people." 

The  impracticable  preacher  smiled  a  faint  assent 
which,  being  interpreted,  announced  very  clearly: 
"  Just  as  well  humour  the  old  gentleman.  But  I'll 
leave  this  institution  when  I  get  ready,  and  it's  got  to 
be  mighty  quick." 

And  the  shrewd  old  man,  reading  the  smile,  had  also 
his  own  thoughts,  which  being  likewise  interpreted 
were:  "  We'll  see  about  that." 


V 

THE  HEAD  NURSE  AT  THE  CASTLE 

THERE  is  no  accounting  for  popular  taste  and 
the  same  may  also  be  true  of  popular  smell. 
Doctor  Goodman  thought  that  with  the  de- 
velopment of  the  oil  industry  there  would  be  an  end  to 
the  usefulness  of  Latham  Corners  as  a  health  resort. 
It  might  survive  the  noise  and  the  traffic  and  the 
increased  activity,  but  no  seeker  of  health  would  toler- 
ate that  smell — the  oil  smell,  the  strong  smell,  the 
smell  that  penetrates,  that  creeps  in  even  through 
closed  windows  and  locked  and  barred  doors. 

Doctor  Goodman  expressed  himself  very  positively 
to  his  old  friend  Williams,  but  evidently  not  convinc- 
ingly. 

**  It*s  His  wonderful  stuff  that  makes  the  smell,*'  said 
the  old  doctor.    **  It  must  be  good  for  folks." 

And  so  the  expression  got  abroad.  It  was  good  for 
folks.  It  was  like  a  medicine.  It  was  a  feature  of  the 
treatment — an  added  attraction.  The  same  spirit  that 
makes  people  love  to  consume  a  dark-brown  mixture 
out  of  a  large,  odd-shaped  bottle,  and  feel  that  in  so 
doing  they  are  certainly  delivering  a  knock-out  blow 
to  that  hydra-headed  monster,  disease,  made  them 
feel  that  in  inhaling  this  strong,  dank  odour  of  crude 
oil  they  were  certainly  enlisting  a  most  active  thera- 
peutic agent  in  their  campaign. 

It  is  a  hard  job  for  the  common  everyday  person 
to  realize  that  in  the  battle  for  health  we  wrestle  not 

29 


30  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

against  flesh  and  blood,  and  so  although  disease  may  be 
intangible,  elusive,  invisible,  the  demand  is  none  the  less 
clamorous  that  the  weapons  shall  be  mighty  in  shape 
and  structure  and  calculated  to  make  a  loud  report  in 
explosion. 

So  the  place  grew  in  favour  more  than  ever  as  a 
health  resort.  The  town  developed  like  a  healthy  babe 
gaining  its  half-pound  a  week.  It  built  up  business 
streets,  it  laid  pavement,  it  erected  street  lights,  and 
talked  of  water  and  sewerage.  It  elected  a  mayor  and 
other  town  officials,  who  accepted  graft,  promulgated  a 
speed  ordinance,  and  did  many  of  the  acts  common  to 
officers  of  much  larger  cities.  It  changed  its  name  to 
Latham  Centre  and  it  became  a  centre  for  the  oil  in- 
dustry and  health  fads. 

The  most  recent  addition  to  Latham  Centre's  supply 
of  sanatoria  was  an  institution  rejoicing  in  the  op- 
timistic title  of  New  Hope.*  Its  superintendent  and 
proprietor  was  a  Doctor  Middane.  His  credentials  had 
been  accepted  as  quite  substantial  very  naturally,  con- 
sisting as  they  did  of  money  enough  to  pay  cash  for  his 
ground  and  erect  a  substantial  building.  More  than 
that  Latham  Centre  would  ask  of  no  one,  and  if  Doctor 
Goodman  chose  to  cast  aspersions  upon  the  new  doc- 
tor's character  it  were  well  to  remember  that  he  was 
an  active  competitor. 

The  thing  Doctor  Goodman  chose  first  to  attack  was 
the  production  and  advertising  by  the  New  Hope  doc- 
tor of  an  instrument  known  as  the  Oxyjuvenator, 
which  ordinarily  sold  for  thirty  dollars,  but  as  a  matter 
of  introduction,  and  expressive  of  good  will  to  the 
home  folks  as  it  were,  was  announced  for  sale  to  Latham 
Centre  residents  only,  at  a  discount  of  twenty  per  cent. 
Even  a  schoolboy  could  see  that  this  meant  a  gratuity 


HEAD  NURSE  AT  THE  CASTLE  31 

of  six  dollars  offered  to  every  citizen.  One  had  only 
to  learn  that  the  Oxyjuvenator  "  made  disease  in  any 
form  a  mere  inconvenience  of  short  duration ''  to  see 
how  surely  it  would  ruin  Doctor  Goodman's  business 
and  naturally  embitter  him. 

Doctor  Goodman  also  criticised  adversely  the  an- 
nounced object  of  New  Hope  to  cure  tuberculosis  by 
the  injection  of  the  Hermann  serum  which  had  received 
so  much  advertising  in  the  East.  He  said  frankly  that 
the  Hermann  serum  was  a  fake  and  invited  the  New 
Hope  doctor  to  bring  suit  against  him  for  thus  ex- 
pressing his  opinion.  But  the  New  Hope  doctor  was 
too  busy  selling  his  Oxyjuvenator  to  a  grateful  public 
and  taking  care  of  people  who  desired  the  Hermann 
cure. 

The  principal  sanatorium  of  the  town  was  The  Inn, 
originally  built  by  old  Doctor  Williams,  but  assigned  to 
his  friend  Doctor  Goodman  when  he  moved  out  to 
The  Castle.  The  Inn  had  grown  far  beyond  the  old 
doctor's  capacity.  To  maintain  its  development  it  be- 
came necessary  to  equip  it  with  apparatus  the  use  of 
which  required  a  master  mind  and  hand,  so  he  gladly 
resigned  it  to  the  best  man  of  his  acquaintance.  And 
under  Doctor  Goodman's  management  its  fame  had  in- 
creased until  its  recognition  was  nation-wide.  No  won- 
der Doctor  Goodman  did  not  wish  to  have  his  business 
ruined  by  the  Oxyjuvenator. 

The  old  doctor  had  built  The  Castle  of  Cheer 
shortly  after  the  death  of  his  sister,  known  the  country 
round  as  "  Aunt  Mercy  ";  and  he  had  chosen  the  name 
because,  erected  high  on  Goodman's  Bluff,  it  stood 
forth  prominently,  reminding  him  of  a  fortress  of 
hope,  and  giving  promise  of  good  cheer.  He  had  dedi- 
cated it  to  the  care  of  patients  afflicted  with  tubercu- 


3S  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

losis  because  he  felt  that  such  patients  needed  more 
than  any  other  class  the  kind  of  care  that  he  was  able 
to  give  and  because  of  a  feeling  that  there  was  much 
discrimination  against  them.  The  Castle  had  been 
well-planned  and  money  had  not  been  spared  in  its 
development.  The  doctor's  oil-well  money  all  had  gone 
into  it,  and  his  hopes  were  that  once  established  it 
would  be  self-supporting. 

The  old  doctor  did  not  depend  entirely  upon  his  own 
skill.  All  patients  entering  were  examined  by  Doctor 
Goodman  or  one  of  his  assistants  from  The  Inn,  and 
these  skilled  physicians  could  always  be  relied  upon  for 
assistance.  In  addition  there  was  maintained  a  staff  of 
trained  nurses  in  whose  hands  was  left  all  of  the 
routine  administration. 

When  the  Reverend  Milton  Stroud,  late  of  Chicago, 
concluded  his  chat  with  the  doctor  and  passed  on  into 
the  main  building  he  was  met  by  the  real  administrator 
of  The  Castle — the  head  nurse. 

She,  too,  guessed  his  identity. 

"  You  are  Mr.  Stroud,"  she  said,  coming  forward  to 
meet  him. 

"  You  all  seem  to  know  me.  I  hope  I  have  not  been 
too  much  announced,"  he  replied,  a  trace  of  annoyance 
in  his  tone.  "^ 

The  nurse  smiled.  It  was  a  very  captivating  smile 
and  quickly  changed  his  pique  to  good-nature.  Some 
of  the  anxious  members  of  the  Ladies  Aid  who  had 
written  letters  asking  especial  care  for  their  beloved 
pastor  would  have  been  worried  about  that  smile. 

*'  It  is  only  that  a  good  many  have  written  telling 
us  how  very  good  care  we  must  take  of  you  and  how 
quickly  they  must  have  you  back,"  she  explained. 

"  They  are  overanxious,"  he  said.    *'  There  is  very 


HEAD  NURSE  AT  THE  CASTLE  33 

little  the  matter  with  me  and  a  rest  of  a  few  weeks 
will  put  me  in  fine  shape." 

If  the  deep  eyes  and  delicate  skin  told  her  a  different 
story  she  at  least  offered  no  argument.  He  appreciated 
her  silence,  and  the  sympathetic  way  in  which  she  con- 
ducted the  customary  entrance  routine  took  off  much 
of  the  trying  formality.    She  rested  him. 

He  was  not  the  first  patient  to  make  this  discovery 
about  Mary  Standlaws  in  the  few  weeks  she  had  been 
at  The  Castle.  The  old  doctor  considered  her  his  great- 
est triumph.  Her  coming  had  lifted  from  his  shoul- 
ders executive  duties  for  which  he  was  unfitted  and 
left  him  free  to  bestow  upon  the  institution  and  its 
individual  members  the  paternal  guidance  and  fellow- 
ship which  profited  them  so  greatly. 

She  was  not  old — ^this  nurse — for  all  she  was  so 
capable,  certainly  not  yet  thirty.  She  was  not  severe, 
yet  her  assured  manner  allowed  no  contradiction  and 
her  directions  were  quite  beyond  dispute.  She  had  such 
a  serene  air  of  confidence  that  one  failing  to  believe  her 
able  to  conduct  his  case  would  have  been  captious  in- 
deed. She  commanded  confidence,  inspired  respect, 
created  harmony,  and  in  her  strength  the  weak  rested. 
In  that  strength  might  be  read  that  somewhere  this 
calm  life  had  been  tempered  by  the  fires  of  experience, 
for  only  thus  is  such  serenity  and  poise  attained.  When 
the  Reverend  Milton  Stroud  wrote  to  his  mother  he 
said :  "  You  feel  you  trust  in  her,  you  leave  your  bur- 
dens with  her,  she  rests  you,  she  soothes  you,  she 
charms  you,  and  you  call  her  beautiful  until  you  see 
her  sister  Gladys." 

But  he  did  not  see  her  sister  at  that  time. 

"  You  have  not  yet  seen  Doctor  Goodman,  Mr, 
Stroud?" 


34  THE    CASTLE    OF   CHEER 

"  I  have  seen  no  one." 

"  Doctor  Goodman  will  examine  you  this  evening 
then." 

She  made  another  note  in  her  book  and  closed  it  as 
if  to  say  that  she  was  through  with  him.  But  he  sat 
in  restful  silence. 

"  You  have  been  in  Chicago  six  years,  have  you 
not,  Mr.  Stroud  ? "  she  asked  as  she  rose  to  her 
feet. 

"  Just  six  years !  "  replied  the  preacher.  His  mind 
went  back  that  interval  of  time  to  the  day  when  he 
stood,  in  all  the  pride  and  strength  of  his  young  man- 
hood, at  the  intersection  of  two  of  the  city's  busiest 
streets  and,  watching  the  interminable  procession  of 
hurrying  human  beings,  vowed  that  it  should  be  his 
part  to  turn  the  glances  of  some  of  them  from  the  city 
streets  to  eternal  glory.  **  Just  six  years ! "  he  re- 
peated. 

"  Then  I  have  heard  you  preach  once.  I  felt  sure 
of  you  as  soon  as  I  heard  your  voice.  It  is  not  one  to 
forget." 

"  So  you  remember?  I  had  at  least  one  attentive 
listener  in  my  church  that  Sunday."  He  laughed  in 
pleasure. 

"  It  was  not  Sunday,  nor  was  it  in  your  church,"  she 
replied.  Her  usual  calm  had  left  her  and  her  face 
flushed.  She  also  had  turned  back  the  leaves  of  the 
years  and  was  looking  on  a  long-covered  page  at  a 
scene  that  was  not  all  sweetness. 

"  I  was  little  known  that  first  year  and  had  few 
opportunities  to  speak  outside  of  my  own  pulpit.  Do 
you  mind  telling  me  where  you  heard  me?  " 

"  Yes.    I  would  rather  not,"  she  replied. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  if  I  have  brought  to  your  mind 


HEAD  NURSE  AT  THE  CASTLE  35 

some  painful  scene,"  he  added.  "  I  know  that  nurses 
are  often  called  to  strange  places.'' 

"  I  was  not  then  a  nurse,"  she  said.  "  Only  a  com- 
mon idler." 

The  last  words  left  her  lips  as  if  by  some  compulsion 
of  will  which  she  would  fain  have  controlled.  She  left 
him  hurriedly,  and  he  only  knew  to  what  quarters  he 
was  assigned  when  a  young  nurse  came  to  show  him 
the  way. 


VI 
"  SOUND  AS  A  DRUM  " 

MILTON  STROUD,  a  man  of  education  and 
furthermore  a  man  of  thought,  was  secretly 
a  trifle  disturbed  at  the  idea  of  yielding  the 
superintendence  of  his  physical  welfare  to  the  old  doc- 
tor, whose  speech  indicated  that  book  culture  was  not 
extensively  called  to  the  aid  of  his  natural  shrewdness. 
The  nurse's  intimation  that  there  would  be  an  examina- 
tion by  a  Doctor  Goodman  was  therefore  comforting 
and  when  at  last  the  doctor  was  shown  into  his  room 
the  young  minister  drew  as  much  assurance  from  his  in- 
spiring presence  as  he  had  drawn  restfulness  from  the 
calm  of  the  head  nurse. 

Doctor  Goodman  was  in  fact  a  man  to  meet  ideally 
the  standard  for  a  physician  which  training,  education, 
and  knowledge  of  the  world  had  formulated  in  the 
mind  of  the  Reverend  Milton  Stroud.  His  age  was 
near  fifty — young  enough  to  flame  with  youthful 
vigour,  old  enough  to  steady  the  flame  with  rich  ex- 
perience. He  was  of  erect  figure  and  easy  carriage  and 
the  fact  that  his  broad  shoulders  bent  slightly  with  the 
scholar's  stoop  only  served  to  bring  him  within  easy 
reach.  A  closely  trimmed  moustache  in  no  way  con- 
cealed the  firm  lines  of  a  handsome  mouth  and  the 
clean-shaven  cheeks  and  chin  indicated  just  such  a  reso- 
lute character  as  would  be  in  keeping  with  the  pleasant, 
sparkling  eyes.  He  was  too  unconscious  of  himself  to 
be  imposing,  too  much  interested  in  his  patient  to  be 


^'  SOUND    AS    A    DRUM  '*  37 

haughty,  yet  an  easy  dignity  covered  even  the  most 
minute  of  his  actions  and  while  the  humblest  felt  at 
home  with  him,  the  highest  would  not  dare  to  con- 
descend. As  to  matters  of  dress  it  is  sufficient  to  say 
that  he  was  personally  conducted  by  Mrs.  Goodman. 

There  remained  no  unsatisfied  yearnings  for  "  a 
good,  thorough  examination ''  in  the  heart  and  soul  of 
Milton  Stroud  when  Doctor  Goodman  at  last  laid  his 
instruments  and  case-book  to  one  side  and  indicated 
that  all  was  complete.  He  was  fully  satisfied  that  for 
once  in  his  life  his  case  had  been  thoroughly  investi- 
gated. He  believed  that  the  doctor  knew  the  secrets 
of  his  innermost  soul.  If  there  was  anything  in  his 
whole  career  that  had  not  been  brought  to  the  light 
and  turned  inside  out  he  was  unable  to  recall  it. 

One  long,  anxious  look  the  young  man  cast  at  the 
doctor  before  undertaking  to  plumb  the  depths  of 
information  that  he  knew  must  be  concealed  behind 
that  placid  countenance.  Then  with  his  anxiety  com- 
pletely squelching  his  feeble  attempt  at  jocularity,  he 
put  forth  the  well-worn  question :  "  Sound  as  a  drum, 
am  I?" 

"  Poor  comparison,  that,"  said  the  doctor.  "  A 
drum  is  nothing  but  a  strip  of  hide  stretched  tight 
across  vacancy — nothing  more  than  a  bag  of  wind. 
You  aren't  like  a  drum." 

"  But  you  find  nothing  wrong  with  my  lungs  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  no  kindness  for  me  to  say  so,  Mr. 
Stroud;  for  all  the  statements  I  could  make  would  not 
alter  the  fact  that  your  lung  condition  is  poor.  But  I 
will  say  this :  I  find  nothing  beyond  repair." 

The  young  minister  lay  quiet  and  grave  for  a  sober 
minute,  a  little  rapid  jerk  of  the  eyelashes  his  only 
motion. 


38  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

"  Perhaps  it  is  best  to  acknowledge  it,"  he  said  at 
last.  "  I  have  been  fighting  the  admission  for  weeks. 
I  hated  to  give  up." 

"  But  giving  up  is  the  very  best  thing  to  do  in  your 
case.  Not  giving  up  hope  but  giving  up  work  and 
worry  and  strife  and  everything  but  the  determina- 
tion to  get  well.  The  day  when  we  deceived  a  man 
by  telling  him  all  was  well  is  long  past.  There  may 
have  been  some  justification  for  such  a  course  when  we 
thought  every  subject  a  hopeless  victim.  But  now, 
when  we  give  up  few  cases  as  hopeless  and  accept  so 
many  as  curable,  to  dally  in  such  a  way  is  rank  folly  and 
to  continue  in  it  is  outrageous  crime.  The  patient  with 
tuberculosis  needs  a  full  recognition  of  his  case  for 
the  express  purpose  that  he  may  proceed  intelligently 
toward  a  cure." 

"  Thank  you.  Doctor,  I  can  see  that  you  are  right. 
But  you  don't  know  how  it  hurts  to  admit  the  weak- 
ness. It  seems  so  long  as  I  can  feel  that  I  have  just 
a  cold  or  just  a  cough  I  am  not  so  different  from  any 
one  else,  but  the  minute  I  acknowledge  this  disease  I 
am  a  marked  man;  I  had  almost  said  a  doomed 
man." 

"  You  must  allow  me  to  dispute  both  statements," 
said  Doctor  Goodman,  his  genial  smile  softening  the 
contradiction.  "  They  are  both  wrong  and  the  second 
just  as  much  so  as  the  first.  The  first  is  wrong  because 
I  do  know  how  it  hurts,  just  exactly  how  it  hurts. 
Within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  this  stands  my  own 
home  on  the  Bluff,  built  by  myself  at  a  time  when,  fol- 
lowing years  of  intimate  contact  with  the  disease  in 
my  own  family,  I  was  compelled  to  admit  to  myself, 
if  to  no  one  else,  that  I  also  was  infected.  Yes,  I 
know  exactly  how  it  hurts,  although  to-day  I  may 


"SOUND    AS   A   DRUM"  39 

draw  up  my  shoulders  and  expand  my  chest  and  say : 
*Look  at  me!"' 

"  You  a  consumptive?  "  exclaimed  the  young  minis- 
ter with  a  sudden,  brightening  interest. 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  a  consumptive.  And  I  could  name  to 
you  a  dozen  men  doing  really  great  work  in  the  fight 
against  the  disease  whose  interest  was  born  in  their 
own  personal  fight.  The  great  Doctor  Trudeau  who 
has  taught  us  so  much  and  has  given  heart  to  so  many 
men  and  women  has  all  the  time  been  fighting  the 
good  fight  and  defying  the  enemy  in  his  own  person." 

"  Doctor,  these  are  good  words  to  me.  I  see  how 
little  I  knew  when  I  said  that  you  could  not  understand 
how  it  hurt.'* 

"  And  you  also  see  that  my  answer  explodes  your 
second  fallacy.  Nothing  can  be  more  depressing  than 
the  attitude  of  considering  yourself  either  a  marked 
or  a  doomed  man.  If  you  stay  with  us  at  The  Castle 
and  follow  our  instructions  there  is  just  one  thing 
doomed — that  one  thing  is  your  despair  and  pessimism. 
You  will  replace  it  by  a  lot  of  valuable  information 
which  followed  intelligently  will  keep  you  well." 

"  Doctor,  I  am  already  glad  to  be  here.  Your  visit 
has  helped  me  tremendously.  I  hope  for  the  privilege 
of  seeing  you  often." 

"  You  will  see  better  people  than  I.  Some  of  the 
happiest  and  most  devoted  nurses  in  the  whole  grand 
army  of  the  federation  against  disease,  and  my  old 
friend  Williams,  the  greatest  optimist  in  the  medical 
profession.  I'm  not  going  to  discuss  anything  more 
with  you  to-night.  I  want  you  to  rest  well.  All  you 
have  to  do  is  obey  orders." 

While  this  long  examination  was  in  progress  the 
young  gentleman  who  had  officiated  as  chauffeur  for 


40  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

the  doctor  had  not  failed  to  use  well  his  opportunities. 
It  will  be  recalled  that  he  was  a  volunteer  of  the  name 
of  Langston  and  that  his  motives  in  giving  service 
were  not  those  of  the  broadest  altruism. 

Artfully  insisting  on  holding  in  his  arms  the  cooing 
heir  of  the  Goodman  family,  the  young  man  promptly 
found  himself  the  rallying  point  of  The  Castle's 
feminine  population.  Among  so  many,  some  old  ac- 
quaintances, some  hitherto  unknown,  but  all  desirous 
of  making  up  to  so  charming  a  burden  if  not  to  the 
bearer,  it  was  an  easy  matter  to  secure  an  introduction 
to  the  fairy  vision  of  the  afternoon  in  a  perfectly 
natural  way. 

"  Do  let  me  hold  him  for  just  a  minute,"  pleaded 
the  fairy. 

Johnny  gazed  at  her  with  anxiety  in  his  face. 

"  I  hardly  think  I  dare  let  him  go  away  from  me  to 
such  a  youthful  person,'*  he  objected. 

"  Mr.  Langston,  I  have  held  more  babies  than  you 
ever  saw,"  expostulated  the  fairy.  Miss  Gladys  Stand- 
laws.  *^  I  would  like  you  to  know  that  I  served  six 
months  in  the  Sea  Girt  Babies'  Home." 

"  But  I  don't  believe  this  baby  is  sea-girt,"  still  ob- 
jected Johnny.  "  Perhaps  I  might  let  you  take  him 
for  a  minute  if  you  sat  up  on  this  seat,  where  I  can 
take  him  if  he  cries.     He  isn't  used  to  strangers." 

"  The  idea !  As  if  the  little  dear  wouldn't  rather 
have  some  woman  hold  him,  who  understands  babies, 
than  any  man  living." 

But,  after  glancing  around,  and  concluding  that  Sis- 
ter Mary  was  safely  housed  with  the  doctors  and  their 
patient,  she  did  step  to  the  seat  of  honour  and  held  out 
her  eager  hands.  And,  would  you  believe,  that  ex- 
asperating infant  had  to  whimper! 


"SOUND    AS    A   DRUM"  41 

The  young  nurse,  all  confusion,  anxiety,  and  tender- 
ness, was  soothing  him  with  soft  nonsense  in  a  moment, 
but  Johnny,  a  gleam  of  triumph  in  his  eyes,  had  his 
own  prescription  to  offer. 

"  He  wants  Uncle  Johnny  to  take  him  riding,"  he 
declared.  "  You  must  take  a  post-graduate  course  with 
the  renowned  specialist.  Doctor  John  Langston,  Miss 
Gladys.  Sit  still  and  he  will  show  you  the  very  most 
up-to-the-minute  method  of  soothing  wailing  in- 
fants." 

The  big  car  moved  smoothly  and  almost  noiselessly 
down  the  driveway,  the  nurse  still  occupied  with  the 
baby. 

**  Aren't  some  of  the  rest  coming?"  she  asked, 
anxiously,  as  she  looked  up  a  moment  later  and  per- 
ceived that  they  were  out  on  the  broad  highway. 

"  I'm  afraid  they'd  hardly  catch  us.  Miss  Gladys," 
the  chauffeur  replied  with  a  glance  at  his  speedometer, 
"  but  we  shall  scarcely  be  gone  a  minute." 

They  had  been  gone  quite  a  good  many  minutes  when 
she  again  remonstrated. 

"  Really,  Mr.  Langston,  we  must  be  turning  back. 
We  are  going  quite  too  far.  Supposing  something 
should  happen." 

"  Something  has  happened,  already,  but  this  hard, 
unsympathetic  machine  will  never  realize  it,"  sighed 
Johnny. 

Notwithstanding  her  laugh,  a  flush  of  deep  colour 
stole  into  the  girl's  fair  skin. 

"  I  think  it  is  time  to  start  home,"  she  said,  quietly. 

And  then  something  really  did  happen.  The  road 
was  narrow  for  turning,  but  Johnny  was  very  skilful 
and  quite  confident.  His  confidence  was  not  ill-placed 
so  far  as  it  related  to  his  own  skill,  but  unfortunately 


42  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

he  also  applied  it  in  favour  of  the  dryness  of  a  ditch 
overstrewn  with  litter.  Crushing  through  the  litter,  his 
wheels  sank  deep  in  a  muddy  cyst,  and  as  the  engine 
exerted  its  power  it  was  but  to  drive  them  deeper. 

"  You  never  can  tell,"  Johnny  confessed,  ruefully. 
"  I  didn't  suppose  there  was  any  moisture  within  a 
mile  up,  down,  or  around.  I  must  now  pluck  a  fence-r 
post  and  pry  this  car  out  of  its  little  bed." 

He  cheerfully  pulled  down  such  portions  of  a  fence 
as  seemed  to  suit  his  purpose,  but  he  was  too  late — 
the  grinding  of  his  engine  had  embedded  the  wheels 
firmly  in  their  clinging  banks. 

It  was  growing  dusk.  Johnny  ran  to  a  farm-house 
and  borrowed  both  a  spade  and  the  farmer.  Ten 
minutes'  digging  and  the  building  of  an  artfully  in- 
clined plane  of  boards  might  reasonably  have  coaxed 
any  decent  automobile  out  of  its  hole.  But  the  ma- 
chine had  decided  for  indecency.  It  cared  not  that  a 
nurse  was  breaking  the  rules  of  an  institution,  that 
a  compromising  situation  was  fast  developing,  and 
that  a  very  anxious  mother  was  praying  that  that 
foolish,  harum-scarum  Johnny  would  bring  back  her 
baby  before  its  father  concluded  his  work  and  asked  to 
return  home. 

It  was  almost  dark  when  Johnny  gave  up  his  efforts 
and  sent  the  farmer  on  a  run  for  his  best  team,  and 
when,  properly  yoked,  they  yanked  the  machine  upon  a 
good  solid  road  and  Johnny  crossed  the  farmer's  palm 
with  an  ordinary  week's  wages,  night  was  unmistak- 
ably present. 

The  car  rushed  along,  its  glowing  headlight  shoot- 
ing strange  shadows  through  the  quiet  lanes,  its  siren 
loudly  heralding  its  advance,  its  occupants  bravely  try- 
ing to  make  talk,  for  the  repentant  Johnny  lost  his  usual 


"SOUND    AS    A   DRUM"  43 

glib  facility  as  he  realized  how  embarrassing  was  the 
situation  into  which  he  had  inveigled  his  fairy. 

At  last  they  slackened  speed  for  the  entrance  gates. 

"  I  hope  you  will  forgive  me  for  this  wretched  per- 
formance, Miss  Gladys,"  pleaded  Johnny,  with  a  last 
sad  effort.  "  You've  acted  like  a  sportsman  with  never 
a  word  of  complaint,  but  I  know  you  must  hate  me. 
I'll  explain  everything  to  th£  Goodmans  on  the  way 
home,  and  then  I'll  go  away  off  and  not  show  myself 
again  until  driven  by  necessity.  Please,  please  remem- 
ber this  evening  by  its  earlier  happenings." 

Baby  was  sleeping  quietly  as  Gladys  tenderly  laid 
him  in  the  arms  of  his  anxious  mother,  but  there  was 
no  likelihood  of  an  early  somnolence  for  the  other 
members  of  the  party. 


VII 
JOHNNY  BRINGS  BACK  THE  BABY 

WHEN  Doctor  Goodman  left  the  young  min- 
ister's room  and  stepped  into  the  hall  he  was 
followed  by  the  head  nurse,  who  had,  as 
usual,  attended  him.  In  the  brief  time  of  her  rule  the 
doctor  had  already  discovered  in  her  a  pearl  of  great 
price.  He  was  quite  accustomed  to  seeing  her  view 
every  case  with  unflagging  professional  interest,  so 
there  had  been  no  surprise  to  him  in  the  intensity 
with  which  she  had  followed  his  examination  nor 
had  he  seen  any  personal  interest  superimposing  itself 
upon  the  professional.  Doctor  Goodman  was  a  clever 
man,  as  indeed  are  most  doctors,  but  like  other  doctors 
his  cleverness  did  not  extend  to  reading  the  thoughts 
and  intents  of  the  heart.  Therefore  his  surprise  was 
great  when,  quick  as  the  door  closed  behind  them,  the 
nurse  faced  him  with  the  unprofessional  question,  put 
with  as  much  concern  as  if  spoken  by  some  annoying 
relative :  "  Doctor,  do  you  think  he  will  get  well  ?  " 

"  What  a  question  from  our  head  nurse !  '*  he  ex- 
claimed. "What  is  this  institution  for?  What  did 
you  see  about  him  that  I  overlooked  to  make  you  so 
suspicious  ?  " 

She  blushed  in  embarrassment,  so  unusual  a  devia- 
tion from  her  normal  composure  that  the  doctor  felt 
embarrassed  also. 

"  I  saw  nothing  at  all  out  of  the  way,  Doctor.  It 
is  a  foolish  question  to  ask.'* 

44 


JOHNNY  BRINGS  BACK  THE  BABY        45 

"  Not  at  all ;  merely  an  unusual  one  for  you.  Per- 
haps you  have  some  personal  interest — an  old  ac- 
quaintance possibly?" 

"  No,  Doctor.  I  heard  him  preach  in  Chicago  years 
ago,  but  that  is  the  extent  of  our  acquaintance." 

"  Well,  he  will  get  well  all  right,  if  he  is  made  of  the 
stuff  I  think.  But  he  will  be  a  bed  patient  for  a  time, 
anyway,  and  to  do  a  good  job  for  him  will  keep  him 
with  us  the  rest  of  the  year.  I  hope  he  will  be  able  to 
arrange  for  expenses  all  right." 

*'  Yes,  Doctor.  It  was  one  of  the  first  things  he 
mentioned.  And  I  am  very  glad,  I  assure  you,  for  we 
are  already  caring  for  as  many  free  cases  as  we  can 
stand." 

"  That  fraud  at  New  Hope  sent  you  another  one  the 
other  day,  did  he?" 

"  Yes,  Doctor.  That  makes  five  he  has  passed  along 
to  us  and  three  weak-minded  people  with  money  he  has 
stolen  from  us  in  the  short  time  that  I  have  been  here. 
He  must  be  quite  a  genius.  I  am  tempted  to  go  to 
see  him." 

"  You  would  be  disappointed.  He  is  a  very  super- 
ficial person  with  a  glib  tongue  and  somewhat  orna- 
mental appearance.  Not  at  all  the  person  you  would 
admire  and  yet  a  dangerous  competitor  with  ordinary 
people." 

"  I  suppose  it's  no  use  suggesting  that  we  refuse  to 
take  these  charity  patients  he  refers  to  us  unless  they 
pay  at  least  actual  cost." 

"  Not  if  you  want  to  keep  the  old  doctor's,  good 
opinion.  No ;  the  only  way  we  can  shut  off  an  unfair 
proportion  of  charity  cases  is  by  keeping  the  place 
filled  up  with  paying  ones  so  that  all  of  our  space  is 
occupied." 


46  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

i "  Even  then  I  suppose  the  doctor  would  want  to 
make  room  for  them  by  turning  out  himself/' 

"  I  suppose  he  would.  He  knows  as  well  as  any  one 
that  he  is  being  overreached ;  but  he  says  *  it  ain't  the 
fault  o'  the  pore  folks  as  comes  here.  They're  sick  an' 
need  help;  where  ye  goin'  to  send  'em?'" 

**  Well,  I  shall  be  glad  if  you  .will  just  step  into  the 
office  and  look  at  the  books  a  moment,  Doctor.  All 
accounts  are  paid  up  to  date,  but  there  are  many  things 
soon  to  be  met  and  not  much  to  do  it  with  unless  some 
of  these  patients  who  haven't  paid  anything  so  far 
should  come  in  for  a  legacy  or  win  a  lottery  prize.  It's 
no  light  matter  running  a  sanatorium  and  carrying  pa- 
tients free,  even  a  few  of  them,  when  the  treatment 
has  to  run  for  weeks  and  weeks.  I  really  don't  see  how 
it  can  be  done." 

"  Don't  be  too  much  discouraged.  The  doctor  has 
several  good  friends  who  will  stand  by  him  rather  than 
see  his  work  stop.  You  don't  find  him  down-hearted, 
do  you  ?  " 

"Doctor  down-hearted?  I  should  say  not."  She 
laughed  as  she  recalled  his  words  a  few  weeks  earlier 
when  with  some  hesitation  she  had  called  his  attention 
to  affairs. 

"  It's  all  right,  daughter.  We'll  jest  go  along  an'  do 
the  best  we  can  for  everybuddy,  all  sharin'  alike  jest 
as  long  as  they  is  things  to  do  with.  Don't  have  no 
fears,  daughter.  The  silver  an'  the  gold  are  His  an'  the 
cattle  on  a  thousand  hills;  an'  this  is  His  work." 

"  No,  the  doctor  never  gets  discouraged,"  said  Doc- 
tor Goodman.  "  Just  the  same  I  wish  you  would  make 
a  special  point  of  showing  him  how  things  stand  to- 
morrow sometime." 

"  All  right,  Doctor.    I  will  do  so." 


JOHNNY  BRINGS  BACK  THE  BABY        47 

''  What  does  that  New  Hope  rascal  use  as  an  excuse 
for  sending  his  charity  apphcants  up  here?  " 

"  He  is  quite  clever  about  it,  Doctor.  He  gets,  their 
history  and  gives  them  an  examination  chiefly  directed 
at  their  financial  condition.  If  it  is  unsatisfactory  he 
tells  them  that  he  must  be  honest  with  them,  that  their 
case  is  not  one  that  his  treatment  would  be  likely  to 
help,  that  as  a  matter  of  fact  their  chief  trouble  is  over- 
work and  malnutrition  and  they  will  be  best  helped  by 
coming  to  The  Castle." 

"It  is  the  old,  old  story.  Always  watch  the  man 
who  says :  *  I'll  be  honest  with  you.'  " 

"  Yes,  Doctor,  I  will.  Occasionally  one  of  them 
really  is.    Here's  a  man  now  who  is  doing  his  best.'' 

She  directed  him  to  the  account  of  one  of  the  new 
patients  and  together  they  continued  the  engrossing 
task  of  examining  the  institution's  finances.  A  certain 
young  attorney  of  the  neighbourhood  would  have  been 
much  gratified  to  know  how  this  occupation  carried 
them  into  the  time  when  lights  became  necessary. 
They  were,  in  fact,  still  at  it  when  they  heard  the  im- 
patient note  of  an  automobile  horn. 

"  That  must  be  Johnny,  anxious  to  go  back  home," 
said  the  doctor,  looking  at  his  watch.  **  It  is  later  than 
I  thought.  I  am  glad  you  are  bringing  such  thought- 
ful interest  to  bear  on  our  problems.  Miss  Mary,  and 
I  will  certainly  give  all  the  help  I  can.  I  will  send  our 
attorney  to  this  quack  at  New  Hope  and  endeavour 
to  curb  his  desire  to  steal  our  paying  patients  even  if 
we  cannot  restrain  him  from  shipping  to  us  his  own 
undesirables.  It  isn't  much  good  talking  to  Doctor 
Williams  about  it,  but  you  can  at  least  bring  the  facts 
to  his  attention." 

As  they  stepped  to  the  door  a  little  group  came  up  the 


4S  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

porch  steps.  Mrs.  Goodman  came  first,  carrying  the 
sleeping  baby,  with  her  came  the  old  doctor,  and  bring- 
ing up  the  rear  was  Johnny  Langston  and  a  young 
woman  wearing  a  flushed  face  and  a  nurse's  costume. 
The  automobile,  its  engine  still  in  motion,  sang  its 
rhythmic  song  a  few  feet  away. 

"  Been  passing  the  time  of  weary  waiting  taking  a 
ride,  have  you?  "  Doctor  Goodman  asked  of  no  one  in 
particular. 

"  Jest  the  young  folks  has,**  answered  the  old  doc- 
tor, who  had  just  come  from  one  of  the  cottages. 

"  I  hope  you  and  baby  enjoyed  it,  dear,"  Doctor 
Goodman  asked  his  wife. 

"  Baby  went  to  sleep,*'  was  as  much  as  Mrs.  Good- 
man felt  called  upon  to  explain,  thereby  winning  the 
eternal  gratitude  of  two  young  hearts.  How  very  good 
of  her,  thought  the  young  man,  and  how  sweet  of  her, 
thought  the  young  woman,  and  how  fine  to  have  every- 
thing passed  over  without  this  critical  head  nurse  giv- 
ing it  attention,  thought  they  both. 

But,  alas,  there  was  yet  Fate  to  consider.  Cruel  the 
way  fate  makes  sport  of  our  plans  and  even  makes 
our  kindly  disposed  friends  part  of  its  armament. 
Enter  Miss  Jolley,  all  innocent  of  evil  intent. 

"  Oh,  you  are  back !  Had  a  fine  ride  I  guarantee. 
I  thought  it  was  just  fine  to  see  you  two  ride  off  to- 
gether— just  you  two  adventurous  young  people  and 
the  dear  little  baby.  Honest,  I — why,  what  have  I  said 
now  ?  *'  She  read  dismay  in  several  faces  and  sur- 
prise in  others.  **  Have  I  put  my  foot  in  that  same 
cavity  again !  Honest,  I  don't  know  what  Fm  talking 
about  half  the  time.  There  might  have  been  a  dozen 
in  that  back  seat  and  my  short-sighted  eyes  never 
seen  'em.'* 


JOHNNY  BRINGS  BACK  THE  BABY       49 

Tangled  in  her  flow  of  language  she  hastily  fled. 

But  her  words  remained;  and  the  young  nurse  looked 
appealingly  at  her  sister  as  she  hurried  by  to  her 
quarters;  and  Johnny,  driving  home  in  the  still  night, 
took  the  chaffing  remarks  of  Doctor  Goodman  in  much 
less  than  his  usual  good  humour. 


VIII 
A  BED  PATIENT 

DO  flowers  from  the  same  parent  stem  always 
bloom  in  like  colour,  fragrance,  and  beauty  of 
form?  Far  more  dependably  than  children 
from  the  same  stock  present  the  same  characteristics. 
If  you  have  the  happiness  of  being  one  of  a  big  family 
you  know  that  none  of  your  brothers  or  sisters  is  just 
like  you,  neither  are  you  just  like  any  one  of  them. 
The  versatility  with  which  Nature  produces  variations 
in  type  is  one  of  her  greatest  secrets. 

Mary  and  Gladys  Standlaws  were  alike  only  in  their 
amiable  kindness.  Whereas  Mary  was  tall  and  com- 
manding, Gladys  was  short  and  dimpling.  None  of  the 
calmness  and  poise  displayed  by  her  sister  was  promi- 
nent in  the  rippling  merriment  of  Gladys'  laughing 
existence.  If  Mary's  brunette  dignity  received  a  com- 
plimentary adjective  it  would  certainly  be  "  hand- 
some,'' but  Gladys'  sunny  features  were  frankly  pretty, 
and  not  merely  pretty,  but  very  pretty.  Mary  smiled, 
but  whereas  her  smile  was  kind  and  pleasant,  that  of 
Gladys  was  mirthful  and  joyous.  Mary  might  some- 
times hum  gently  a  sweet  tune  as  she  worked,  but 
Gladys  sang  aloud  a  lay  of  rejoicing  wherever  her 
duty  permitted.  The  difference  was  not  altogether  of 
nature,  however;  the  repression  and  reserve  of  the 
older  sister  represented  a  maturity  of  experience  be- 
yond her  years. 

No  one  at  The  Castle  knew  more  than  Doctor  Good- 

60 


A    BED    PATIENT  51 

man  about  ^hese  two  sisters;  and  all  that  he  knew  was 
that  the  older  sister  had  been  recommended  by  the 
Superintendent  of  the  Nurses'  Training  School  as  the 
most  capable  executive  of  her  acquaintance,  and  that 
when  he  had  engaged  her  she  had  asked  that  her  sister 
also  be  employed.  In  the  few  weeks  which  they  had 
served  their  superiority  had  been  manifest  at  every  turn; 
never  in  the  history  of  the  institution  had  it  been  so 
well  handled  and  any  wonder  there  might  have  been  as 
to  the  previous  history  of  the  two  girls  was  shouldered 
aside  by  their  remarkable  capability.  They  made 
friends  at  once  with  the  other  nurses,  were  well  re- 
ceived by  them,  and  conducted  themselves  in  such  a 
sane,  friendly,  and  capable  manner  that  no  one  cared 
for  any  inquiries  as  to  antecedents. 

The  Reverend  Milton  Stroud  had  an  unusually  good 
opportunity  to  observe  and  meditate  upon  the  respec- 
tive merits  of  these  sisters  and  also  the  other  nurses, 
for  much  to  his  surprise  and  rather  to  his  indigna- 
tion— since  he  felt  that  his  time  was  short  and  his  cure 
must  be  quick — he  was  classified  as  a  bed  patient  and 
found  himself  obliged  to  lie  there  patiently  and  be 
waited  upon.  But  after  the  first  flush  of  indignation 
and  chagrin  he  was  compelled  to  admit  that  it  did  feel 
fine  to  have  a  chance  really  to  rest.  He  lay  on  a 
pleasant  open  porch  with  the  breeze  sweeping  freely 
around  him  and  breathed  the  sweet  air  into  his  lungs 
and  felt  its  beneficial  influence  in  every  cell  of  his  body. 
When  he  wanted  anything  a  call-bell  at  the  end  of  a 
long  cord  needed  but  a  slight  pressure.  It  certainly 
was  delightful  ease. 

"  Kep'  ye  in  bed,  did  they?"  remarked  the  doctor 
as  he  sat  down  by  the  bedside.  "  They're  boun'  to 
have  their  own  way,  them  gels.     But  ye  know  right 


5S  THE    CASTLE   OF   CHEER 

well  ye've  no  business  usin'  up  yore  strength  trapseing 
around  when  a  fever's  burnin'  ye  up.  I  don't  need  tell 
ye  that.  Ye  know  that  much.  It's  jest  the  same  way 
'bout  workin'  yore  mind,  ye  understan'  me.  It's  got 
to  rest  while  fever's  a-goin'.  A  fever  ain't  nothin'  to 
be  so  awful  alarmed  'bout.  It  just  means  nature's 
a-fightin'.  But  ye  shorely  don't  want  to  give  yore 
body  a  lot  of  other  things  to  hold  it  down  while  it's 
got  such  a  fight  on.    Ye  want  to  rest." 

"  I  spent  a  good  deal  of  time  resting  before  I  came 
here,  Doctor." 

"  An'  it  done  ye  good,  no  doubt.  Yo're  quite  sure 
it  was  restin'  ?  So  many  folks  doesn't  know  how,  ye 
understan'  me.  They  think  they're  restin'  'cause 
they're  layin'  down  to  do  their  worryin'.  'Tain't  no 
better  'n  standin'  up  at  it." 

"  A  person  with  an  active  mind  has  to  think.  Doc- 
tor. Sometimes  worrying  things  will  creep  into  your 
thoughts  in  spite  of  you." 

"  Depends  a  lot  on  whether  they  knows  they're 
goin'  to  be  welcome.  It  ain't  no  way  to  rest  the 
mind." 

"  It's  easier  for  some  people  to  rest  their  minds 
than  for  others.  Doctor." 

"  Meaning  as  some  of  us  has  so  little  that  it's  easy 
looked  arter,"  shrewdly  guessed  the  old  man.  ''  Don't 
make  no  mistake  'bout  it,  son.  The  humble  man  with 
his  dull  mind  feels  his  simple  griefs  an'  disappoint- 
ments jest  as  keen  as  you  men  whose  minds  is  big 
enough  to  grapple  with  the  tremendous  problems  of 
the  whole  world." 

"  I  didn't  mean  to  say  that  my  thoughts  were  so 
much  more  important  than  those  of  other  people." 

**  No,  I  don't  reckon  ye  meant  to  say  it,  but  you 


A   BED    PATIENT  S5 

natchully  think  it.  These  men  whose  minds  don't  go 
no  further  'n  their  own  little  ambitions  an'  the  affairs 
of  their  own  poor  famblies  and  ordinary  friends,  how 
should  their  anxieties  be  compared  with  those  of  a  man 
as  reaches  clear  out  to  the  needs  o'  the  whole  world? 
But  their  things  is  all  they  got,  an'  all  they  got  is  jest 
as  important  to  them  as  all  you  got  is  to  you,  ye 
understan'  me." 

"  I  understand  readily  enough,  Doctor.  My  affairs 
must  wait  just  as  their  affairs  must  wait.  I  will  try 
to  be  sensible.  I  am  here  to  get  better.  I  have  a 
month's  vacation,  anyway,  and  'I  think  one  more 
month  with  that  should  about  straighten  me  up.  Dur- 
ing that  time  I  will  drop  all  affairs  of  my  own,  of  my 
church,  of  the  world's  need,  everything  but  getting 
well." 

"  It  does  sound  like  that  ought  to  make  a  well  man 
of  ye,  don't  it?"  the  doctor  asked  mildly.  "Two 
whole  months  doin'  nothin'  at  all  but  get  well!  It 
ought  to  'mount  to  somethin'." 

"  I  think  it  should  for  a  man  who  has  been  as  sound 
and  strong  as  I,  heretofore." 

"  Well,  son,  it's  all  right.  It's  doin'  fine.  But  don't 
be  too  strict  'bout  the  time  limit.  Ye  dassent  noways 
tell  A'mighty  God  that  ye  give  Him  jes'  so  long.  Bet- 
ter let  Him  say,  ye  understan'  me." 

The  old  doctor's  smile  as  he  left  was  so  very  posi- 
tive that  argument  or  dispute  would  have  been  rude; 
but  yet  the  Reverend  Milton  Stroud  had  his  own 
thoughts  about  how  much  time  he  would  spare  from 
his  great  task  of  regenerating  Chicago. 

His  thoughts  turned  to  the  lighter  and  more  pleasing 
subject  of  the  personality  of  the  sisters  who  were  to 
be  agents  in  his  well-being  and  well-getting.     Strik- 


54  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

ing  girls  beyond  a  doubt.  The  younger  with  her 
dainty  beauty  was  of  course  the  prettier,  but  it  was  the 
elder  who  haunted  his  thought.  Somewhere,  six  years 
ago,  she  had  heard  him  preach,  and  it  was  outside  of 
his  church.  His  engagements  had  not  been  so  very 
numerous  that  first  year.  He  began  an  attempt  to 
recall  his  outside  appointments  wondering  which  could 
have  been  the  one.  It  was  an  odd  thing  for  her  to  say 
"  Only  a  common  idler !  "  But  women  often  said  odd 
things  to  ministers.  Perhaps  she  had  then  been  un- 
regenerate  and  possibly  he  might  venture  to  hope  that 
some  words  of  his  had  helped  her.  He  had  delivered 
one  address  at  the  Presbyterian  Hospital  to  the  gradu- 
ating nurses.  It  had  not  been  a  very  serious  address — 
rather  showy,  perhaps — ^but  how  glorious  a  thing  if  it 
had  led  this  remarkable  creature  to  the  light.  That 
certainly  must  have  been  the  occasion,  for  he  had 
scarcely  been  out  of  his  own  neighbourhood  else,  ex- 
cepting the  nights  he  had  preached  to  the  poor  wretches 
at  the  Salvation  Army  Home. 

Along  the  walk  from  the  large  building  came  a  light 
step  and  a  light  voice  singing  heedlessly  the  words  of 
a  song,  very  popular  on  Chicago  streets  a  short  time 
ago.  His  door  swung  open  and  Gladys  Standlaws 
appeared. 

She  held  a  thermometer  in  her  hand.  "  Open  your 
mouth  and  shut  your  eyes,"  she  quoted.  "  It  is  time 
to  take  your  temperature.  Oh,  did  you  hear  that  silly 
thing  I  was  singing?" 

His  lips  being  firmly  set  around  the  little  glass  tube, 
he  nodded  his  head  in  assent. 

"  Sister  Mary  says  I  disgrace  the  institution  singing 
such  things,  but  I  really  don't  mean  to.  I  just  sing 
them  because  they  are  so  silly  they  amuse  me.     I 


A   BED    PATIENT  55 

don't  believe  they  do  any  harm  to  any  one,  do  you? 
You  can't  say  anything  about  it  now,  anyway." 
He  nodded  his  head  vehemently. 
"  You  mean  you  disapprove.     Very  well,  I  won't 
sing  any  more — not  that  song,  anyway." 

She  withdrew  the  thermometer  and  scanned  the 
little  tube  closely. 

"  How  am  I  to-day.  How  is  my  temperature?  "  he 
asked. 

"  It  is  all  right.  Just  about  what  might  be  ex- 
pected." 

"But  what  does  the  thermometer  say?" 
"  You  shouldn't  ask  that,  you  know.    I  assure  you 
it  is  not  high." 

"  But  can't  you  give  me  a  direct  answer  ?  " 
*'  Not  to  that  question.    It  is  against  the  rules." 
*'  The  rules  are  foolish.     It  does  me  a  great  deal 
more  harm  to  be  told  that  I  must  not  know  than  it 
would  to  be  told  that  I  have  a  high  fever." 

"  You  think  so  no  doubt,  but  that  is  not  really  so. 
Your  temperature  is  not  your  business  at  all.  It  is 
the  doctor's  business.  You  forget  about  it  now,  please. 
If  the  doctor  came  in  now  he  would  think  my  singing 
had  upset  you.  Look  pleasant,  please.  Tell  me  a  song 
that  is  really  good  to  sing." 

"  Do  you  treat  all  of  your  patients  like  children  ?  " 
"  We  try  to.     Doctor  says  that  is  the  best  way. 
You  can  do  something  with  'em  then,  he  says." 
"  I  suppose  there  is  nothing  to  do  about  it?  " 
"  Yes,  you  can  get  well  and  get  up  and  dress  and 
go  to  town  and  buy  a  thermometer  of  your  own,  or  you 
can  ask  the  doctor  and  he  will  tell  you  if  he  thinks 
best.    Now  don't  feel  badly  about  it,  please.    I  always 
make  a  point  of  having  my  patients  look  pleasant." 


56  THE    CASTLE    OF   CHEER 

"  I  suppose  it  is  hard  for  them  to  do  anything 
else."    He  smiled  at  last. 

"  There,  that's  nice.  Now  I'll  go  while  you  hold  on 
to  that  look." 

She  left  him  to  his  reflections.  What  kind  of  a  con- 
versation was  that  to  have  with  a  nurse?  Well,  why 
not?  It  was  fine  to  find  a  woman  bright  enough  to 
break  away  from  that  "  Yes,  sir  "  and  "  No,  sir,"  the 
stock  remarks  of  the  ordinary  nurse.  There  she  was 
now — talking  to  some  one  on  the  walk  outside.  He 
listened. 

"  No,  Miss  Jolley.  Tm  afraid  you  can't  see  him, 
for  he  isn't  able  to  be  up  yet,  and,  you  know,  visiting 
bed  patients  is  against  the  rules." 

"  You  don't  reckon  he'd  get  any  harm  from  me, 
Miss  Gladys,  just  for  a  minute.    I  should  guarantee!  " 

"  Is  he  an  old  friend.  Miss  Jolley  ?  Perhaps  Doctor 
would  allow  you  to  see  him  if  he  is." 

"  Not  generally  speaking  he  isn't,  perhaps.  But  I 
just  heard  he's  from  my  own  town." 

"  He's  from  Chicago,  if  that's  your  town.  Miss 
Jolley.    You  have  a  host  of  friends  figuring  that  way." 

"  Well,  I'm  proud  to  have  'em.  Everybody  from 
Chicago  is  a  friend  of  mine.  And  this  man — ^honest, 
I  saved  his  life.  Kept  him  from  starvation  the  very 
first  thing,  I  guarantee.  And  you've  hid  him  up  so  I 
haven't  saw  him  since." 

"  Well,  I'll  tell  Doctor  you  particularly  want  to 
visit  this  gentleman,"  there  was  mischief  in  the  tone. 

"And  you  see  what  you  get,  Miss,"  laughed  the 
cheerful  voice.  "  I  can  tell  worse  on  you,  I  guarantee. 
Say,  I  was  just  about  mortified  to  death  the  other 
night  when  I  stood  there  blattin'  out  about  your  ride 
with  Johnny  Langston.    Honestly,  if  I'd  been  a  young- 


A   BED    PATIENT  67 

ster  rd  just  ha'  bawled,  I  felt  so  small.  You'd  orter 
screwed  my  mouth  up." 

Stroud,  listening  from  his  bed  and  hearing  the  sil- 
very laugh  of  the  young  girl  join  merrily  with  that  of 
the  older  woman,  judged  that  no  great  offence  had  been 
committed. 

"  Who  is  this  Johnny  Langston  chap  ?  "  he  wondered 
idly,  as  he  lay  back  on  his  pillow. 


IX 

THE  OTHER  SISTER 

YOU  have,  perhaps,  felt  the  luxury  of  lying  full 
length  between  clean  sheets  on  a  quiet,  drowsy 
afternoon,  with  just  enough  fever  in  your  blood 
to  give  a  mild  stimulation.  You  have  realized  how 
good  to  be  free  from  responsibility,  how  fine  to  have 
no  bothering  calls  or  callers,  how  restful  to  be  rid  of  all 
appointments.    You  have  dozed  in  contentment. 

But  with  the  wearing  along  of  the  afternoon  the 
fever  has  increased,  as  it  has  a  way  of  doing.  Instead 
of  the  pleasant  languor  comes  a  persistent  ache;  it  is 
in  your  head,  it  is  in  your  back,  it  is  in  your  chest,  it 
is  everywhere.  You  are  parched  for  a  cool  drink. 
Your  pleasant  thoughts  of  ease  have  changed  to  a 
dreary,  undefined  foreboding.  If  you  nap  a  moment  it 
is  to  fall  into  a  miserable  nightmare  of  a  dream  which 
wakens  you  with  a  shock. 

Suddenly  there  is  a  quiet  presence  by  the  bed.  The 
temperature  is  taken,  but  no  flippant  remarks  does 
this  attendant  offer,  all  is  quiet  and  calm.  A  firm, 
quick,  undoubtedly  practised  hand  adjusts  your  bed- 
ding. You  are  tathed  in  refreshingly  cool  water,  and 
that  without  exertion  on  your  part.  You  feel  the  re- 
duction in  your  fever.  Something  cool  rests  lightly 
upon  your  aching  head — not  a  caressing  hand,  but,  far 
more  effective,  a  water-coil  placed  by  a  hand  you  may 
imagine  caressing. 

You  are  refreshed;  you  are  rested;  the  aching  dis- 

58 


THE    OTHER    SISTER  59 

appears;  you  sink  into  quiet  repose.  You  have  re- 
ceived the  ministrations  of  a  skilled  nurse  and  so  doing 
have  profited  by  nature's  greatest  adjuvant. 

It  was  the  elder  sister  who  cared  for  the  Reverend 
Milton  Stroud  as  night  came  on.  It  was  she  who  re- 
freshed him ;  hers  the  presence  which  soothed  him  and 
hers  the  presence  which  pervaded  his  dreams.  He  was 
a  quick  man  in  decision.  Before  he  dropped  soundly 
asleep  he  had  quite  determined,  not  only  that  he  would 
leave  the  sanatorium  completely  cured  in  two  months, 
but  that  Mary  Standlaws  should  leave  at  the  same 
time  and  change  her  career  from  institutional  to  pri- 
vate nursing. 

Milton  Stroud,  though  young,  was  a  learned  man, 
a  man  of  thought  and  purpose,  yet  withal  one  quite 
susceptible  to  the  charm  of  the  bright  side  of  life. 
He  was  old  enough  to  know  that  it  is  not  good  for  a 
man  to  dwell  alone.  He  had  considered  the  subject  of 
matrimony  many  times — he  had  also  many  times  con- 
sidered certain  subjects  for  matrimony.  Always  he 
had  felt  that  some  greater,  more  compelling  force  must 
come  to  him.  And  since  reaching  this  institution  and 
a  sense  of  his  weakness  it  had  come — ^his  whole  soul 
and  body  clamoured  for  a  helpmate.  Only  a  few 
hours  ago  he  had  felt  how  precious  would  be  the  bright 
fellowship  of  one  so  light-hearted  and  happy  as  his 
attendant  of  the  morning. 

This  evening  he  knew  that  his  morning  thoughts 
were  mistaken,  for  Mary  had  soothed  his  aching  and 
distress. 


MILTON  STROUD  MAKES  HIS  CHOICE 

EXCEPTIONAL  is  the  man  who  knows  exactly 
why  he  desires  a  certain  woman  to  be  to  him 
a  wife.  He  wants  her  because  he  wants  her, 
and  that  is  the  extent  of  his  philosophy.  Usually  he  is 
quite  willing  to  admit  that  she  is  too  good  for  him — 
otherwise  he  would  not  want  her,  for  almost  every 
man,  willing  though  he  may  be,  in  a  general  way,  to 
admit  his  deficiencies,  considers  himself  entitled  to 
take  to  wife  some  superior  creature  with  wings — 
potential  if  not  perceptible.  Momentous  though  this 
great  decision  is,  even  a  sick  man  may  feel  his  judg- 
ment quite  equal  to  it,  so  it  is  not  surprising  that  Mil- 
ton Stroud,  who  was  not  so  very  ill,  was  very  positive. 
At  times  a  man  will  make  a  decision  more  positively  in 
sickness  than  in  health,  being  shorn  of  extraneous  mat- 
ters that  might  confuse  his  judgment. 

Having  definitely  made  his  decision  the  logical  order 
of  procedure  is  to  communicate  the  fact  to  the  lady 
of  choice;  but  the  wily  suitor,  no  doubt  realizing  that 
his  uncouth  if  not  repellent  person  will  not  be  immedi- 
ately acceptable,  begins  a  course  of  ingratiation  known 
as  "  love-making,"  with  the  thought  that  when  the 
lady  has  in  some  measure  become  reconciled  to  his  per- 
son he  will  acquaint  her  with  the  honour  in  store  for 
her.  And  so  artful  does  he  believe  his  advances  to  be 
and  so  clever  does  he  consider  his  processes  that  he 
would  be  quite  surprised  to  know  that  the  fair  one 


MILTON   STROUD   MAKES   HIS   CHOICE       61 

has  understood  his  aspirations  ever  since  they  were 
definitely  sett 

So  with  Milton  Stroud  and  so  with  Mary  Standlaws. 

She  had  not  long  officiated  as  nurse  to  the  young 
minister  before  she  knew  what  was  in  his  mind.  Was 
she  surprised  ?  So  much  was  he  in  her  thoughts  that 
it  scarcely  seemed  possible  to  surprise  her.  And  grati- 
fied ?  Gratified  indeed,  for  if  he  considered  his  nurse 
a  comforter  and  a  tower  of  strength,  she  had  long 
ago  sanctified  in  her  heart  the  man  who  had  spoken  the 
momentous  words  which  led  her  into  the  Way  of  Life. 
Women  do  not  necessarily  love  saints,  save  when  the 
saint  is  of  their  own  canonizing.  This  man,  weak  and 
worn  and  ill,  was  in  her  heart  the  greatest  man  living 
and  by  all  means  the  most  desirable.  But  he  was  not 
for  her.  There  were  obstacles  which  she  felt  to  be  in- 
superable. 

The  most  potent  factor  in  matchmaking  is  a  clever 
woman  who  greatly  admires  a  man  whom  she  herself 
may  not  marry.  Given  this  factor,  and  add  to  it  a 
second  woman  to  whom  number  one  is  sufficiently  de- 
voted to  be  willing  to  sacrifice  her  best,  and  a  match  is 
inevitable.  Since  Mary  Standlaws  could  not  marry 
the  Reverend  Milton  Stroud  the  sweetest  alternative 
that  lightened  her  imagination  was  to  give  this  great, 
incomparable  happiness  to  one  whom  she  loved  better 
than  herself — her  fairy  sister  Gladys.  Not  all  sisters 
are  on  such  terms  of  absolute  confidence  that  they  can 
guarantee  the  action  one  of  another.  But  so  close 
was  the  tie  between  these  two  that  Mary  felt  herself 
empowered  to  choose  for  the  younger  sister,  and  had 
not  a  doubt  that  her  choice  would  be  ratified. 

Mary  waited  a  few  days  before  telling  Gladys  her 
thoughts.    But  certain  aggressive  actions  on  the  part 


62  THE    CASTLE    OF   CHEER 

of  one  John  Calhoun  Langston  warned  her  that  her 
communication  must  not  be  long  deferred.  So  she 
chose  the  opportunity  that  came  in  a  few  minutes'  out- 
ing one  lovely  evening  when  they  had  strolled  down 
the  driveway  and  sat  on  a  rustic  seat  by  the  massive 
front  gates — gates  whose  function  was  purely  orna- 
mental, for  they  barred  no  one  out  and  kept  no  one  in. 

"  Isn't  it  just  grand  this  evening ! "  exclaimed 
Gladys.  "  I  love  this  place  already.  I  am  absolutely 
so  happy  I'm  afraid  of  myself." 

**  It's  quiet  and  it's  peaceful,"  Mary  agreed.  "  After 
the  things  we've  been  through  in  the  last  few  years  it 
seems  almost  like  home.  I  suppose  that's  why  you're 
so  happy — unless  there's  something  or  some  one  else?  " 

"  Mary  Standlaws,  what  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  I  hope.  I  was  just  wondering  though. 
This  happy  feeling  of  yours  reminds  me  a  little " 

"  Now,  that'll  do,  sister  Mary.  Do  you  think  you 
see  a  little  cloud  no  bigger  than  a  man's  hand  ?  " 

*'  Or  a  man's  two  hands,  say.  I  hope  not.  I'm  just 
wondering." 

"  Well,  you  may  continue  to  wonder.'* 

"  But  there  isn't  any  need,  is  there,  Gladys  ?  You 
don't  really  like  this  Mister  Longhorn  or  Longjohn  or 
whatever  his  name  is  ?  " 

"  You  know  perfectly  well  how  to  pronounce  Mr. 
Langston's  name  and  you  are  just  saying  things, 
Mary." 

"  Well,  he  worries  me.  I  don't  deny  his  virtues  but 
I  don't  want  him  coming  after  you." 

"  You  fret  too  much,  my  sister.  You  worry  need- 
lessly. I  don't  care  for  him  and  he  doesn't  care  for 
me.  He's  nice  to  me  just  as  I  suppose  he  is  to  every 
other  girl  he  meets." 


MILTON   STROUD   MAKES   HIS   CHOICE       63 

"  I  knew  that  was  it,  dear.  I  think  Mr.  Langston 
must  be  a  very  nice  young  man — Doctor  thinks  so 
much  of  him — ^but  the  man  for  my  httle  sister  must 
be  more  than  an  ordinary  man.'' 

"  Perhaps  you'll  never  find  him,"  said  Gladys,  with 
mischief. 

"  Perhaps  I  have  found  him  already,"  returned 
Mary. 

"  Why,  Mary,  whatever  do  you  mean?  " 

**  I  mean  that  there  is  one  man — just  one  man — to 
whom  I  feel  that  I  could  trust  you." 

"  Oh,  where  is  this  remarkable  person  to  be  found  ?  " 
cried  Gladys,  in  mock  anxiety. 

"  He  is  here,  Gladys." 

**  One  of  our  patients?" 

"  One  of  our  patients !  " 

"  Then  I  know  just  who  this  paragon  is  to  whom 
you  are  so  willing  to  sign  me  over.    It  is  Mr.  Stroud." 

"  Yes,  it  is  Mr.  Stroud." 

"  Well,  Mary  Standlaws !  I  do  hope  you  haven't 
yet  arranged  for  the  ceremony." 

"  Not  yet;  you  shall  do  that  yourself.  You  don't 
know  who  he  is,  Gladys.  You  won't  wonder  that  I 
think  him  so  great  a  man,  when  I  tell  you." 

"  Well,  tell  me,  quickly." 

"  You  remember  father's  last  day  on  earth,  Gladys; 
that  wonderful  day  ?  " 

"  I  remember  what  you  told  me  about  it  when  I 
came  home." 

"  You  remember  that  the  words  of  the  minister 
brought  him  such  great  peace,  even  though  they  stirred 
him  to  declare  that  he  must  go  over  his  business  affairs 
and  make  restitution  to  hundreds  of  people." 

"  I  know  you  so  expressed  your  belief." 


64  THE    CASTLE   OF   CHEER 

"Yes,  dear,  because  I  am  so  sure.  Well,  Mr. 
Stroud  is  the  minister !  " 

"  I  guessed  it  as  soon  as  you  spoke,"  said  Gladys. 
"  But  it  doesn't  mean  the  same  to  me  as  to  you.  It 
never  has.  All  that  I  know  is  that  father  died,  and 
that  we  were  left  absolutely  penniless.  If  Mr.  Stroud 
was  responsible,  it  doesn't  make  me  feel  any  better 
to  him." 

"  That's  because  you  weren't  there,  Gladys.  I  would 
give  anything  that  you  might  have  a  vision  of  father 
in  those  last  few  hours;  so  joyous,  so  radiant,  so  full 
of  plans  for  the  future;  all  the  old  moodiness  and  black 
doubt  that  had  weighed  him  down  so  long  vanished 
away.  Just  a  few  hours,  but  they  were  worth  a  life- 
time ! " 

"  It  was  your  vision,  Mary,  not  mine.  Why  don't 
you  marry  Mr.  Stroud  yourself  ?  " 

"  I  would  rather  than  any  man  I  know.  But  my 
vision  is  the  very  reason  why  I  must  not.  Cannot  a 
woman  be  so  firm  to  her  purpose  that  she  can  deny  her- 
self such  fancies?  You  know  what  I  have  said  my 
life  shall  be,  Gladys." 

There  was  a  note  of  reproach  in  the  words. 

"Yes;  but  I  don't  see  what  good  it  will  do,  nor 
why  you  could  not  fulfil  the  same  purpose  if  mar- 
ried." 

"  You  will  see  if  you  think.  You  know  that  father 
hoped  to  give  his  fortune  back  to  the  poor,  from  whom 
most  of  it  came.  I  was  willing  and  you  would  have 
been  willing,  and  we  were  the  only  ones  concerned. 
When  he  was  so  suddenly  taken  I  supposed  that  we 
would  carry  out  his  plans.  Then  Mr.  Doane  managed 
to  show  that  father  had  assigned  all  of  his  share  of 
the  business  to  him  and  that  the  income  ceased  with 


MILTON   STROUD   MAKES   HIS   CHOICE       65 

his  death,  so  that  we  had  nothing  to  give  to  any 
one " 

"And  then/'  interrupted  Gladys,  "my  heroic  big 
sister  must  vow  that  at  least  she  would  give  her  life  to 
the  poor,  the  sick,  and  the  suffering." 

"  And  you  pretend  to  say  this  could  be  done  just  as 
well  if  I  married !  A  little  thought  will  tell  you,  as  it 
has  told  people  in  all  ages,  that  a  life  vowed  to  the  serv- 
ice of  humanity  must  be  a  life  which  sacrifices  the  ties 
of  marriage  and  home." 

"  But  a  preacher's  wife,  Mary!  Isn't  that  a  hfe  of 
sufficient  sacrifice  for  any  one  ?  " 

"  Not  this  preacher,  at  least.  But  don't  joke,  dear. 
This  thing  is  more  than  a  whim  of  mine.  It  is  the 
only  possible  way  in  which  I  can  in  the  least  degree 
make  the  restitution  that  dear  father  was  so  anxious 
for.    It  is  a  sacred  thing. 

"  Of  course,  dear,"  she  continued,  after  a  moment 
of  silence,  "  I  don't  expect  you  to  marry  Mr.  Stroud 
unless  you  should  fall  in  love  with  each  other,  but  I'm 
sure  you  can  afford  to  give  him  as  much  chance  as  Mr. 
Langston.  And,  perhaps,  if  you  give  him  a  little 
attention,  he  won't  bother  about  your  big  sister." 

"  I  will  save  you,  big  sister.  I  will  at  least  do  that 
much.  He  shall  be  so  interested  in  me  that  he  will 
not  throw  a  single  glance  after  you.  One  sister  should 
be  plenty." 

"But,  Gladys;  you  won't  trifle  with  him?" 

"  Whoever  hinted  at  such  a  thing?  I  hope  no  nurse 
in  The  Castle  would  act  so  with  a  patient." 

But  in  spite  of  her  gaiety,  the  little  sister  was 
frightened.  It  is  one  thing  to  talk  cheerfully  of  what 
you  will  do  when  the  doing  seems  impossibly  remote, 
and  another  to  glimpse  it  as  an  impending  reality. 


66  THE    CASTLE    OF   CHEER 

And  she  was  not  wholly  ready  to  dismiss  all  others 
from  her  thoughts,  for  while  true  enough  that  Johnny 
Langston  had  never  breathed  a  word,  there  is  an 
atmosphere  which  invades  the  soul,  needing  no  words 
or  signs.     So  she  added: 

**  But  you  don't  think  he  really  wants  to  marry  any 
one,  Mary?" 

"  Probably  not  just  now,  dear,"  Mary  agreed.  "  I 
simply  give  you  my  permission  to  fall  in  love  with 
him  if  you  so  desire.  For  me,  at  present  my  work  lies 
in  this  institution.  I  wish  I  might  give  the  old  doctor 
some  of  the  wealth  we  once  had.  It  would  pay  for 
these  charity  cases  that  quack  doctor  at  New  Hope 
sends  up  here.  I  would  like  to  shake  that  man.  I 
have  made  up  my  mind  that  not  another  single  one  of 
his  cast-off  patients  will  I  admit" 


XI 
"MILLIONS  OF  DOLLARS  LEFT  TO  YOU!'* 

IT  seemed  very  evident  from  the  convictions  she 
expressed  that  whoever  might  add  to  the  charity 
cases  that  already  overburdened  The  Castle  would 
get  little  encouragement  or  support  from  its  head 
nurse.  Certainly  this  was  a  logical  conclusion  and 
the  only  one  to  draw  from  her  remarks.  But  why 
refer  to  logical  conclusions — the  head  nurse  was  a 
woman!  Her  heart  was  much  softer  than  her  head, 
yet  much  more  potent  in  deciding  her  conduct. 

Miss  Mary  Standlaws  always  gazed  at  the  sana- 
torium known  as  New  Hope  with  absorbing  interest 
when  in  its  neighbourhood.  She  looked  at  it  much  as 
a  child  might  gaze  at  the  Ogre's  castle  with  a  terrified 
hope  that  mayhap  the  monster  himself  may  look  out 
of  a  window  or  step  for  a  moment  to  the  door.  Never 
yet  had  the  Ogre  appeared;  perhaps  he  did  not  desire 
a  "  shaking."  But  on  this  particular  day  she  did  see 
an  object  of  very  great  interest  in  reward  for  her  gaz- 
ing. A  woman,  recently  come  from  the  train,  hesi- 
tated a  moment  at  the  door  and  then  suddenly  pushed 
on  in.  She  was  so  evidently  in  poverty,  spite  of  her 
shabby  finery,  that  the  nurse  stood  staring  in  greatly 
interested  curiosity.  How  long  would  it  take  them  to 
refer  her  to  The  Castle  of  Cheer? 

Quick  work,  very  quick  work,  indeed.  While  she 
still  gazed  and  wondered,  the  poor  creature,  despond- 
ency  in  every  motion,   came    forth   dejectedly   and 

67 


68  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

crawled  down  the  hot  street  as  if  ready  to  sink  beneath 
the  heat  of  the  day  and  the  burden  of  her  soul.  Cross- 
ing over,  she  came  directly  in  the  path  of  Mary  Stand- 
laws,  who  still  gazed  as  one  fascinated. 

Now  was  her  time  to  move  hurriedly  along — this 
very  minute,  before  this  poor  creature  should  have 
an  opportunity  to  make  an  appeal  which  might  touch 
her  sympathies.  But,  easily  stirred,  they  had  been 
touched  from  the  first  moment.  Every  atom  of  her 
nursing  instinct  cried  out  for  an  opportunity  to  take 
this  shattered  wreck  and  rebuild  her  into  a  human 
being.  She  was  also  stirred  by  an  indefinite  feeling  of 
some  vague  connection  in  the  long-distant  past — the 
years  of  long  ago. 

"  Why  did  you  not  stay  ?  "  She  asked  the  question 
without  preface  or  apology,  for  the  situation  to  her 
seemed  obvious.    "  Wouldn't  the  doctor  take  you?  " 

The  woman  laughed  a  dry,  bitter  laugh. 

"  The  doctor,"  she  exclaimed.  "  I  didn't  get  within 
seeing  distance  of  the  doctor.  I  hadn't  more  than 
stepped  inside  before  up  jumps  a  young  fellow  and 
asks  my  business.  But  he  don't  even  listen  to  the  line 
of  talk  I  try  to  put  up,  before  he  says,  '  We're  quite 
full  up  now.  I'll  register  you  and  you  can  see  the 
doctor  later.  The  advance  fee  is  two  hundred  dol- 
lars.' All  I  could  say  about  paying  a  little  later  didn't 
make  no  hit  with  him  at  all.  It  was  me  for  the  door, 
right  sudden." 

"  Didn't  he  give  any  reason  at  all — just  turn  you 
off  because  you  hadn't  the  money?  " 

"  You  never  spoke  a  truer  word.  He  had  a  line  o* 
talk  he  tried  to  string  me  with,  of  course.  *  We're  so 
full,'  says  he,  '  that  we're  just  taking  the  cases  that 
need  our  treatment  worst.     What  you  need  most  is 


"MILLIONS    OF   DOLLARS!"  69 

fresh  air  and  good  food.  There's  a  place  up  the  road 
a  piece,  called  The  Castle,  that's  what  you  want.'  " 

*'  And  so  you  are  going  to  The  Castle?  " 

"  Not  me,  I  ain't.  I'm  going  to  the  station  to  wait 
till  the  next  train  back.  I  come  to  this  place  to  get 
cured  by  the  stuff  advertised  in  the  papers.  I  don't 
know  nothing  of  no  Castle." 

Splendid  opportunity  here,  for  this  inflexible  head 
nurse.  Just  let  this  woman  go  to  the  station  and  back 
where  she  came  from. 

"  I  think  The  Castle  has  an  empty  bed.  Their  car- 
riage is  just  down  the  street  standing  in  front  of  that 
big  building  they  call  The  Inn.  You  go  along  and  tell 
the  driver  you  want  to  go  out.'*  This  was  the  way 
she  used  her  opportunity. 

"  But  I  can't  no  more  pay  them  Castle  people  than 
I  could  the  others." 

"  I  think  I  know  some  one  who  will  pay  for  your 
actual  expense.    You  go  along  to  the  carriage." 

She  did  not  say  that  the  "  some  one  "  was  a  nurse 
whose  head  was  harder  than  her  heart.  Let  it  be 
distinctly  understood  that  Mary  Standlaws  at  this  time 
had  no  more  than  the  most  vague  idea  that  she  was 
bringing  to  The  Castle  any  one  of  the  least  importance 
to  her  own  interests.  Something  was  struggling  to 
revive  old  memories,  but  she  felt  no  more  definitely 
that  her  act  of  mercy  was  to  result  to  her  great  interest 
than  the  proprietor  of  New  Hope  felt  that  his  act  of 
calculating  business  was  to  result  in  his  undoing. 
In  the  late  afternoon  the  weary  stranger  rode  be- 
tween the  invitingly  open  gates  and  entered  The  Castle 
of  Cheer. 

It  was  quite  dark  in  the  little  cottage  where  the  new 
patient,  bathed,  clothed  in  a  clean  gown,  and  lying  in 


70  THE    CASTLE    OF   CHEER 

the  luxury  of  fresh,  cool  sheets  had  been  made  more 
comfortable  than  she  had  been  in  any  late  experience. 
She  lay  quiet  but  not  asleep.  The  shadows  of  the 
room  carried  no  terrors  for  her,  but  the  active  brain 
never  ceased  its  agitated  stirring  and  scheming  over 
the  events  which  the  day  had  stirred  up.  A  wonderful 
day!  Perhaps  the  beginning  of  health.  But,  strange 
that  it  should  be  so,  the  thing  which  most  excited  her 
was  the  hope  that  it  meant  beginning  wealth.  Some- 
thing had  come  to  her  that  day  which  she  hoped  to  turn 
to  material  gain. 

Suddenly  she  was  conscious  of  a  presence  in  the 
room.  Her  alert,  overstrung  nerves,  responsive  to  the 
slightest  sound,  told  her  at  once  where  was  the  in- 
truder. The  presence  neared  her  bed  and  she  felt  a 
cool  hand  on  her  forehead. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,"  said  the  quiet  voice  of  Mary 
Standlaws.  "  We  don't  need  lights  to  talk,  and  we 
are  less  likely  to  be  disturbed  if  they  are  not  on.  Tell 
me  if  I  have  not  seen  you  before?  Perhaps  I  am  mis- 
taken. You  do  not  now  look  at  all  like  the  person  I 
mean.  I  saw  her  but  once  and  that  over  six  years 
ago;  and  yet  something  about  you  reminds  me 
of  her  so  strongly  that  I  am  bound  to  ask  you  my 
question.  If  you  are  the  one,  I  think  you  will  remem- 
ber me,  for  I  have  not  greatly  changed." 

The  woman  did  not  reply  at  once. 

"  I  know  you  now,"  she  admitted,  "  but  I  didn't 
know  you  at  first.  And  I  don't  see  how  you  can  see 
in  the  poor  wretch  you  picked  up  this  afternoon  any 
likeness  to  what  I  was  six  years  ago.  Why,  that  day 
when  I  come  to  see  you  and  tell  you  that  if  young 
Doctor  Doane  was  pretending  to  be  engaged  to  you  he 
had  no  right,  me  being  his  lawful  wife,  I  was  pretty 


"MILLIONS    OF   DOLLARS!"  71 

enough  to  be  the  wife  of  any  man.  Now  Fm  a  wreck, 
and  you,  who  was  a  rich  young  lady,  is  a  nurse  in  a 
hospital." 

"  Yes,  you  were  a  pretty  woman.  But  there  is  a 
likeness  yet,  and  everything  of  that  terrible  day  is 
stamped  into  my  memory." 

"Well,  don't  take  on  about  it.  God  knows  he 
wasn't  much  to  lose.  But  do  you  know  why  I  come 
here  to-day?  They  told  me  he  was  the  doctor  run- 
ning that  New  Hope." 

"  That  must  be  a  mistake,  Mrs.  Doane.  The  doctor 
who  runs  that  is  a  quack  named  Middane." 

"  Fd  know  well  it  was  a  mistake,  seeing  you  here 
and  him  doing  nothing  about  it.  He's  hunted  for  you 
all  over  this  country." 

"  Why  should  he  hunt  for  me  ?  I  have  no  interest 
in  him  nor  he  in  me." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  don't  know 
anything  about  the  old  gentleman's  will  ?  " 

"  About  his  father's.  I  didn't  know  old  Mr.  Doane 
was  dead." 

"  No  wonder  nobody  could  find  you.  You  must 
have  been  shut  up  in  a  convent.  The  papers  was  full 
of  it.  Anybody  as  wasn't  dead  to  the  world  was 
bound  to  hear  of  it." 

"  My  sister  and  I  were  dead  to  the  world,  as  you 
put  it.  When  father  died  we  were  left  almost  penni- 
less. There  were  no  relatives  to  whom  we  could  go; 
we  had  few  friends.  Gladys  was  at  school  in  France 
and  I  went  there  to  her.  We  decided  to  take  up  nurs- 
ing as  a  vocation.  We  took  our  mother's  name, 
entered  a  French  hospital,  and  for  four  years  we  were 
indeed  dead  to  the  world." 

"  And  I'm  the  first  one  to  tell  you  that  youVe  had 


72  THE    CASTLE    OF   CHEER 

millions  of  dollars  left  to  you.  Before  old  Mr.  Doane 
died,  nearly  three  years  ago,  he  gave  it  out  that  he 
didn't  feel  just  right  about  the  way  he  had  treated 
your  paw,  and  he  left  you  all  the  estate.  He  had 
found  out  how  wild  Vance  had  been  going  and  he 
didn't  so  much  as  leave  him  a  cent.  All  the  property 
of  every  kind  is  to  go  to  you,  but  he  takes  care  of 
Vance  by  saying  in  the  will  that  you  must  marry  him 
in  three  years." 

"  Mrs.  Doane !  Mrs.  Doane !  what  are  you  tell- 
ing me  ?  " 

"  Fm  telling  you  gospel  truth.  Miss  Mary.  It's 
just  exactly  as  I  say.  All  the  property  of  every  kind 
goes  to  you  and  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  marry  Vance 
Doane." 

"  Then  it  doesn't  go  to  me  at  all.  If  Vance  was 
your  husband  six  years  ago,  he  is  now." 

"  Nobody  knows.  Miss  Mary.  All  I  want  is  a  little 
out  of  all  that  money.  How  much  will  you  give  me 
just  to  disappear?  " 

"  I  will  give  you  nothing.  You  don't  know  what 
you  propose.  And  I  wouldn't  marry  Vance  Doane 
for  all  the  millions  in  the  world !  " 

"  But  I've  heard  tell  how  your  paw  intended  to  give 
all  this  money  back.  Vance  told  me  years  ago.  He 
allowed  you'd  be  crazy  to  do  the  same  way.  Don't  you 
want  to?" 

"  Not  at  such  a  price.  You  do  not  know  what  you 
speak  about  when  you  make  such  a  proposal.  The 
money  must  go  to  whomever  it  will.  Does  Vance  get 
it  when  the  forfeit  time  is  up  ?  " 

**  No.  If  you  don't  get  married  you  don't  either  of 
you  get  it.  At  the  end  of  three  years  it  goes  to  a  kind 
of  committee  of  three  men  the  old  gentleman  knew 


"MILLIONS    OF   DOLLARS!"  73 

pretty  well,  for  them  to  do  something  with.  They  are 
all  officers  of  a  society  for  exploring  South  America, 
so  I  suppose  it'll  go  to  pay  for  explorers." 

"  It  certainly  will  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,"  em- 
phatically asserted  Mary  Standlaws. 

"  Well,  if  you  feel  that  way  about  it.  But  you  cer- 
tainly beat  my  time.  You  think  it  over  some.  There's 
millions  in  it.  Probably  Vance  would  be  willing  to 
take  his  half,  once  you  was  married,  and  never  see  you 
again,  rather  than  lose  it  all." 

"  I  have  said  my  final  word  on  the  subject.  Let  me 
ask  you,  Mrs.  Doane,  can  you  not  drop  this  and  never 
speak  of  it  again?  Give  your  attention  now  to  get- 
ting back  your  health." 

"  Well,  I  certainly  would  like  to  be  well  again.  But 
a  million  dollars  would  reconcile  me  a  lot  to  being  sick. 
Howsomdever  it  ain't  my  money.  Don't  call  me  Mrs. 
Doane,  please.  Put  me  down  as  Mrs.  Smith  and  do 
your  best  for  me  and  I'll  do  the  best  I  know.  But, 
say!  You  think  it  over  about  this  money.  It's  an 
awful  pile  of  cash  to  turn  down." 

"  Would  you  go  back  to  him  for  it  ?  " 

"  Me !  Would  I  ?  Him  that's  beat  me  and  deserted 
me  and  cursed  me.  Would  I  go  back  to  him  for  the 
money?  Let  me  tell  you,  dearie;  I'm  just  a  fool — a 
plumb  fool.  I'd  go  back  to  him  without  a  solitary  red 
cent.     That's  how  much  of  a  fool  I  am !  " 

And  the  woman's  face  was  wet  with  sudden  tears. 


XII 
THE  BIRD  WITH  THE  BROKEN  PINION 

IT  is  a  great  thing  to  be  the  possessor  of  riches. 
It  is  greater  to  be  superior  to  such  possessions — 
to  have  riches  in  your  reach,  yet  put  forth  no 
grasping  hand.  Try  to  imagine  yourself  almost  in 
possession  of  some  unthinkable  sum  (never  mind  the 
amount,  your  bait  may  be  a  few  dollars  or  a  few  mil- 
lions, depending  altogether  on  what  you  already  have), 
the  only  bar  being  some  little  matter  of  conscience. 
See  yourself  at  first  push  the  vile  temptation  indig- 
nantly away,  nobility  of  purpose  in  your  thrust — a 
little  later  see  yourself  inclined  to  look  more  closely 
at  the  bar — later  yet,  you  have  discovered  that  it  is 
not  a  bar,  after  all.  No  bar !  Then  the  money  is  hon- 
estly yours.     Another  victory  for  honesty! 

It  may  be  as  well  to  state  that  Mary  Standlaws  felt 
no  temptation  whatever  to  bribe  the  woman  to  disap- 
pear so  that  she  might  come  back  into  possession  of 
her  one-time  sweetheart,  Vance  Doane,  and  the  im- 
mense fortune  attached  to  him.  There  might  have 
been  some  struggle  had  the  human  attraction  been  as 
great  as  in  former  years,  but  Vance  Doane  had  per- 
ished in  her  regard  years  ago.  Yet  the  revival  of  old 
recollections  saddened  her.  But  she  mourned  because 
of  the  thoughts  they  brought  of  her  dead  father  and 
his  noble  purpose,  which,  but  for  this  requirement — 
so  simple  to  the  maker  but  to  her  so  insuperable — she 
might  now  have  the  opportunity  to  carry  out.     She 

74 


THE  BIRD  WITH  THE  BROKEN  PINION       16 

wanted  to  know  more  of  the  will  and  was  just  as 
naturally  curious  as  any  young  woman  would  have 
been  to  know  what  became  of  the  wealth  if  she  did  not 
claim  it.  So  she  did  a  thing  rather  indiscreet  for  a 
young  person  in  hiding;  she  wrote  a  letter  to  the  clerk 
of  the  court  asking  for  a  copy  of  the  will. 

Though  Mary  made  this  little  concession  to  the 
curiosity  of  her  sex  and  her  natural  desire  for  good 
things,  she  had  no  serious  thought  of  coming  into 
great  possessions  nor  was  she  wildly  elated  or  even 
joyously  happy  at  the  possibilities  which  the  strange 
woman  had  revealed.  Quite  the  reverse;  old  wotmds 
bled  anew;  gloom  which  had  been  defeated  years  ago 
again  attacked  her;  her  sleep  was  disturbed  by  rest- 
less dreams  of  great  distress;  her  peace  was  shattered. 

Keeping  trouble  to  ourselves  is  a  favourite  occupa- 
tion with  some  of  us,  and  we  cherish  tenderly  the  con- 
solation of  our  bravery  and  revel  in  the  thought  that 
no  other  life  is  shadowed  by  the  cloud  which  obscures 
our  sun.  It  is  a  brave  idea  but  not  wholly  a  true  one. 
Our  mates  all  feel  the  difference  between  forced  gaiety 
and  lightsome  fun ;  every  one  detects  the  heavy  footfall 
where  usually  the  light  step  trips  along;  every  ear  with 
a  musical  note  knows  when  the  cheer  of  life  in  our 
song  gives  place  to  the  dirge  of  gloom.  Keeping  trou- 
ble to  ourselves  is  not  so  easy,  for  trouble  knows  no 
boundaries  and,  like  a  malignant  infection,  spreads 
although  not  seen. 

Mary  Standlaws'  trouble,  bravely  concealed  though 
it  was,  shed  a  vague  depression  over  many  of  the  in- 
mates and  attaches  of  The  Castle.  In  an  institution 
of  this  character  there  is  necessarily  much  that  is 
routine  and  routine  is  always  monotonous.  The  same 
people  with  the  same  ailments,  wearing  much  the  same 


76  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

clothing,  thinking  much  the  same  thoughts,  and  say- 
ing much  the  same  things  meet  day  after  day  under  the 
same  conditions.  One  of  The  Castle's  strongest  char- 
acteristics was  a  spirit  cheerful  enough  to  overcome 
this  dull  monotony,  and  Mary  had  been  one  of  the 
foremost  agents  in  its  promotion. 

It  was  Sunday  afternoon.  Bissington  Jones  felt  the 
monotony  as  much  as  any  one.  He  was  a  good-hearted 
man  and  always  ready  to  second  any  attempt  to  cheer, 
but  no  attempt  was  there  to  second.  He  decided  to  call 
on  the  Reverend  Milton  Stroud.  He  had  been  inter- 
ested in  him  from  the  start,  when  he  had  welcomed 
him  to  the  Chaser's  Club  and  given  him  into  the  care 
of  Miss  Jolley.  It  was  necessary  to  get  special  per- 
mission to  call  on  a  bed  patient,  but  he  had  such  a 
reputation  for  cheer  that  it  was  readily  granted. 

"  When  are  they  going  to  let  me  up?  "  asked  Stroud. 

"  When  they  get  ready,"  said  Bissington,  cheerfully. 
"  They  kept  me  in  bed  six  weeks  when  I  came  here." 

"  And  you  don't  look  as  if  there  was  ever  anything 
the  matter  with  you  ?  " 

"  No,  and  I  didn't  then.  That's  one  thing  got  me 
in  such  poor  shape.  Everybody  would  say,  *  There 
can't  be  much  the  matter  with  a  man  as  fat  as  you.' 
It  struck  them  as  quite  a  joke  when  a  good  doctor  said 
at  last  that  I  had  consumption.  The  idea  of  a  fat 
man  being  a  consumptive !  " 

"  I  suppose  you  wouldn't  be  wasting  your  time  here 
if  it  wasn't  so,  but  it  isn't  exactly  in  keeping  with 
accepted  ideas." 

"  Accepted  ideas  don't  count  so  much  against  facts. 
But  I'm  getting  better.  Doctor  Goodman  says  an- 
other six  months  will  likely  put  me  in  shape  to  get  back 
to  work." 


THE  BIRD  WITH  THE  BROKEN  PINION       77 

"  Six  months !  Poor  man,  I  don't  see  how  you  bear 
the  thought." 

"  I  spoke  Hke  that  to  old  Doc  once.  *  How  old  are 
you  ? '  he  asked.  I  told  him  I  was  thirty-six.  *  Add 
a  year  to  that  an'  you'll  be  thirty-seven/  he  said. 
*  That  gives  you  over  thirty  years  before  you  reach  your 
Bible  limit.'  I  told  him  that  might  be  true  enough 
but  it  didn't  make  the  time  seem  any  shorter.  *  Don't 
it? '  he  says.  '  But  if  you  remember  that  in  this  little 
bit  of  time  you're  trying  to  make  your  body  fit  to  live 
another  thirty  years  and  your  soul  fit  to  live  for  all 
eternity,  it  won't  seem  so  awful  long.'  " 

"  He's  a  good  old  man,"  said  the  preacher.  "  He 
has  told  me  a  great  deal  of  truth,  already." 

"  He  can  do  it,"  corroborated  Bissington  Jones. 

"  I  believe  I'm  to  be  allowed  up  next  week.  I  shall 
certainly  be  glad  to  be  out  again.  But  I've  got  to 
admit  one  thing.  After  the  resting  is  fairly  begun  a 
man  begins  to  see  things  in  their  right  proportions 
and  some  matters  that  seemed  terribly  important  be- 
come nothing  at  all.  The  old  doctor's  theory  is  all 
right.  There  is  a  great  deal  in  getting  a  right  point 
of  view." 

"  I'll  be  glad  to  have  you  out.  I'll  show  you  the 
place.    Anything  I  can  do  for  you  now  ?  " 

*^  I  believe  not.  I  suppose  you  have  some  kind  of 
Sunday  service  but  I  don't  expect  to  take  in  Sunday 
services  for  a  time.  I  heard  some  one  singing  the 
other  day — a  real  singer.  If  you  have  singers  to 
spare  you  might  bring  them  this  way." 

"  We  generally  have  a  sing  Sunday  afternoons. 
The  old  doctor  always  likes  us  to  have  it.  We  don't 
sing  grand  opera  much,  though  we  did  have  a  singer 
of  some  fame  recently.     But  we  mostly  like  the  fa- 


78  THE    CASTLE   OF   CHEER 

miliar  songs  and  hymns  that  mean  something  to  us. 
People  shut  away  from  life's  activities  as  we  are  have 
a  tenderness  for  the  old  favourites.  I'll  get  the  singers 
together  where  you  can  hear." 

It  was  almost  surprising  to  Jones  himself,  some- 
times, to  find  how  readily  he  exercised  himself  to 
humour  other  people's, whims.  When  he  entered  the 
institution  he  had  been  a  self-centred,  cynical,  am- 
bitious, but  disappointed  man,  disappointed  because 
just  at  the  stage  of  genuine  achievement  in  his  pro- 
fession, just  when  his  efforts  were  commanding  both 
respect  and  money,  he  was  obliged  to  halt  in  his  career, 
perhaps  to  abandon  it  altogether.  And  now,  with  an 
adjusted  viewpoint,  he  found  himself  looking  out  upon 
a  larger  life  and  a  more  satisfactory  than  he  had  ever 
contemplated. 

The  people,  the  singers  and  listeners,  were  easily 
gathered.  Any  form  of  diversion  was  welcome.  The 
old  doctor  moved  among  the  groups  seated  about  the 
lawn  in  chairs,  settees,  or  squatting  directly  on  the 
grassy  sod,  and  manifested  his  approval  in  smiling 
encouragement.  These  were  precious  times  to  him. 
If  there  was  any  lack  of  subject  for  their  song  he  was 
always  ready  with  a  suggestion.  His  taste  was  quite 
catholic  but  he  had  his  favourites  which  he  demanded 
— ^usually  hymns.  '*  One  sweetly  solemn  thought " 
was  one  of  his  surest  selections ;  "  Beneath  the  cross 
of  Jesus"  was  another.  "O'er  the  hills  the  sun  is 
setting"  was  a  great  favourite,  and  often,  as  they 
sang  the  significant  words,  "  I  am  one  day  nearer 
home,"  tears  would  fill  his  eyes  and  roll  down  the  fur- 
rows of  his  weather-worn  cheeks.  Not  that  it  had  any 
sadness  for  him.  It  was  a  song  of  rejoicing.  "  I  am 
one  day  nearer  home"  meant  friends  on  ahead,  a 


THE  BIRD  WITH  THE  BROKEN  PINION       79 

work  well  done,  a  look  into  the  face  of  the  Lord  he 
had  followed  faithfully,  something  that  was  indeed 
"  Sweet  to  know  at  even." 

The  singing  was  well  on  in  its  course,  almost  sung 
out,  in  fact,  when  the  two  sisters  appeared  from  their 
duties. 

"  We  will  now  have  a  song  from  Miss  Standlaws," 
announced  Jones,  without  consultation. 

A  great  clamour  advertised  the  popular  approval  of 
the  announcement. 

"  Yoxi  sing,  Gladys,"  whispered  the  head  nurse, 
gently  pushing  the  younger  girl  forward. 

But  Gladys  for  once  was  shy  and  restrained.  These 
people  were  all  her  friends — there  was  not  a  harsh 
critic  among  them.  But  they  were  mostly  city  people 
— they  had  heard  great  singers — they  would  laugh  at 
her  feeble  effort.  She  looked  at  the  crowd,  she  looked 
despairingly  at  Mary.  She  was  almost  ready  to  run, 
but  some  one  handed  her  a  sheet  of  music.  It  was 
"The  Bird  with  the  Broken  Pinion."  She  could 
sing  that,  at  least.  Faintly  her  sweet  young  voice  rose 
in  harmony  with  the  accompaniment;  but  her  com- 
posure did  not  return.  She  did  not  gather  strength, 
terror  was  manifest  in  every  quavering  note,  another 
moment  and  she  must  collapse.  Her  sympathetic  audi- 
ence drooped  its  united  gaze  that  it  might  not  see  her 
embarrassment.  Quietly  another  note  stole  into  the 
song,  another  voice,  dominant  rather  than  supporting 
took  up  the  melody.  She  was  carried  along  like  a  singer 
in  a  chorus  who  follows  the  master  voice.  How  the 
words  rang  now;  what  an  intensity  of  meaning  they 
carried !  People  forgot  to  look  for  the  new  singer  so 
engrossed  were  they  in  the  song.  Triumphant?  No, 
let  it  rather  be  sad.     But  how  vibrant.     With  what 


80  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

pathos  did  this  new  voice  ring.  One  could  see  that 
poor,  fluttering,  striving  thing,  vainly  shaking  its 
wings  as  the  song  told  that  it  "  never  soared  so  high 
again."  One  could  hear  sentence  passed  on  a  doomed 
sinner  as  the  low,  closing  tones  proclaimed  this  also 
true  of  *'  the  soul  that  sin  had  stricken."  The  sisters 
hurried  away  as  the  song  was  finished.  The  singing 
was  over,  for  no  one  cared  to  offer  further  contribu- 
tions. 

"That  is  a  voice!"  said  Bissington  Jones.  "That 
woman  is  an  artist.  Instead  of  being  in  nurse's  uni- 
form she  should  be  singing  in  grand  opera." 

"  That  song  came  clear  from  the  soul,  I  guarantee," 
said  little  Miss  Jolley.  *'  It  beats  me  what  she  knows 
about  a  broken  pinion." 

The  Reverend  Milton  Stroud  dropped  back  from  the 
tension  of  his  listening. 

"  She  has  lived  that  song,"  he  said.  "  But  it  must 
surely  be  that  so'  sweet  a  woman  has  lived  it  for  some 
one  else." 


XIII 
DOC  GIVES  A  "  PERSCRIPTION  '* 

BISSINGTON  JONES  devoutly  thanked  his 
Creator  that  he  was  a  married  man. 
"  If  I  were  not,"  he  remarked  to  his  friend 
Cassius  Banks,  "  the  Lord  only  knows  what  kind  or 
how  many  kinds  of  fool  I'd  be  making  of  myself.  Vm 
here  to  make  the  cure  and  to  make  it  good.  What  kind 
of  results  could  I  expect  if  I  were  chasing  my  consti- 
tution off  its  feet  making  love  to  a  nurse  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,'*  admitted  Cass.    ''  Which  nurse?  " 

"  Thafs  just  it,'*  Jones  continued.  "  How  could 
any  one  tell  in  this  institution  ?  Those  two  sisters  are 
enough  to  distract  any  kind  of  a  man.  When  life 
seems  real,  life  seems  earnest,  any  fellow  might  be 
sure  that  our  head  nurse  is  just  the  one  to  pull  him 
along  to  the  crest  of  the  wave;  when  joy  and  happiness 
abide  he's  bound  to  think  how  delightfully  the  younger 
one  would  figure  as  a  stockholder  and  director." 

"  Well,  you  don't  have  to  worry  about  it,"  advised 
Cassius,  with  perhaps  a  trifle  more  emphasis  than 
seemed  absolutely  necessary.  '*  It  ought  not  to  make 
your  temperature  chart  show  any  zigzag  tracings. 
Why  be  anxious  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  anxious.  I  do  not  allow  myself  to  be 
anxious.  Anxiety  retards  the  cure.  Although  I  look 
fat,  appearances  are  deceptive.  However,  I  weighed 
a  hundred  and  eighty-two  yesterday.    It  will  be  many 

81 


82  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

a  long  day  before  that  preacher  Stroud  weighs  a  hun- 
dred and  eighty- two,  the  pace  he's  going." 

"  So  it's  Stroud  is  on  your  mind,  is  it?  I  hadn't 
noticed  him.  He's  only  been  allowed  up  a  few  days, 
has  he?" 

"  Is  it  Mr.  Stroud  you  speak  of?  "  asked  a  pleasant 
voice,  as  Miss  Jolley  stepped  in  front  of  them.  "  He 
has  been  up  a  week,  and  isn't  he  the  dearest  man?  " 

"  Why  this  hasty  transfer  of  affections.  Miss  Jol- 
ley?" objected  Jones,  gallantly.  "Think  how  you 
harrow  the  feelings  of  my  friend  Cassius,  not  to  men- 
tion my  own  secret  yearnings." 

"That's  enough  for  you,  Mr.  Jones,"  Miss  Jolley 
checked  him  abruptly.  "  I  heard  you  men  talking 
about  the  nurses  and  what  you  said  about  Reverend 
Stroud  and  our  darling  sisters.     You're  foolish." 

"  Agreed,"  said  Bissington  Jones.  "  We  are  prop- 
erly rebuked." 

"  You  are  foolish  because  you  can't  see.  It  takes  a 
woman,  I  guarantee.  I  could  tell  you  all  about  it,  only 
I  won't  betray  them  of  my  own  sect." 

"  But  you  will  tell  us  in  the  interest  of  humanity, 
Miss  Jolley.  Think  how  much  help  we  can  give  if 
we  know  just  what  word  to  pass  to  Stroud  at  the  right 
moment." 

"  You're  right,  you  could.  He's  foolish,  too;  if  he 
is  a  dear.  He  thinks  it's  the  little  one  he  wants  and 
it  ain't  a  bit.  If  the  older  sister  as  much  as  crooked 
her  finger  at  him  he'd  know  at  once,  I  guarantee." 

"And  why  doesn't  the  older  sister  crook  her 
finger?" 

"  That's  one  of  the  things  I  can't  just  tell.  Gladys 
doesn't  want  him;  that's  clear  to  any  woman,  and  we 
know  why,  too." 


DOC    GIVES    A    "  PERSCRIPTION  "        83 

"  Perhaps  they  aren't  ready  for  any  crooked  work, 
yet,"  put  in  Cassius. 

"  That's  a  slam  at  the  whole  sect  an'  I'll  tell  ye 
no  more,"  said  Miss  Jolley.  "  Whatever  we  do  for 
Reverend  Stroud  will  be  for  his  best  good,  be  sure  o' 
that.  An'  we'll  do  it,  too,  when  we  get  ready.  He's 
a  dear  man  an'  a  minister  at  that.  An'  he  and  I  are 
from  the  very  same  little  place.    Honest,  we  are." 

"  Thought  you  were  from  Chicago  ?  "  said  Cassius. 

"  We  are,"  she  calmly  assured  him.  "  Ain't  it 
strange  that  kindred  souls  should  dwell  so  near  an'  yet 
so  far?  Scarcely  an  hour's  ride  on  the  elevated  be- 
tween my  home  and  his  church,  an'  yet  we  had  to  have 
this  hospital  built  and  both  of  us  get  teabeery  before 
ever  we  could  get  acquainted." 

"  Quite  a  unique  way  you  have  of  mentioning  our 
mutual  enemy,  T.  B.,  Miss  Jolley.  Do  you  think  Mr. 
Stroud  also  finds  his  visit  made  more  pleasant  by  the 
new  acquaintances  he  makes?" 

"  He  will  before  he's  through,  I  guarantee.  I  can 
see  how  things  are  going  to  break  for  him  right  now." 

"  Woman's  marvellous  instinct !  "  exclaimed  Bis- 
sington  Jones  as  she  moved  away.  "  She  may  know 
all  about  it,  but  to  any  one  else  it's  a  question  which 
one  is  the  choice." 

It  was  true  that  this  was  a  question  which  the  Rev- 
erend Milton  himself  would  have  found  some  difficulty 
in  answering.  The  head  nurse,  truly  a  majestic  crea- 
ture of  admirable  poise,  capable,  efficient,  command- 
ing, fit  queen  for  any  court,  was  after  all  not  very 
approachable,  but  the  fairy  sister,  bright  and  gay, 
charming  and  tender,  seemed  quite  often  to  be  in  a 
mood  when  a  woodland  sprite  might  offer  his  ad- 
vances, if  not  a  human  being.    Did  he  desire  a  queen 


84  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

or  did  he  desire  a  fairy?  He  solved  the  question  by 
declaring  for  a  fairy  queen. 

It  is  well  understood  that  nurses  at  hospitals  and 
institutions  are  expressly  forbidden  to  encourage  at- 
tentions from  patients.  Perhaps  this  is  the  explana- 
tion of  the  large  crop  of  weddings  which  is  such  a  con- 
stant drain  upon  the  working-staff  of  so  many  hos- 
pitals. The  nurse  probably  concludes  that  since  she 
may  not  encourage  her  admirer's  attentions  while  on 
duty,  the  best  plan  is  to  put  an  end  to  duty — since  she 
may  not  receive  his  offers  of  devotion  at  the  hospital, 
go  with  him  away  from  it. 

The  nurses  at  The  Castle  were  fully  informed  as 
to  these  unwritten  rules.  But  what  are  rules,  written 
or  unexpressed,  printed  on  a  placard  and  framed  be- 
neath glass  or  merely  understood ;  what  are  rules  when 
the  thing  they  are  to  regulate  is  that  intangible  senti- 
ment which  flows  from  male  to  mate  and  is  under- 
stood and  fully  expressed  without  needing  so  much  as 
the  touch  of  a  hand,  whose  language  is  not  words  but 
tones,  whose  vision  is  not  sight  but  perception?  The 
Reverend  Milton  Stroud  was  a  little  doubtful  about 
Mary  but  he  felt  quite  sure  of  Gladys.  He  was  an 
honourable  man  and  already  began  to  feel  that,  after 
all,  perhaps  Gladys  was  destiny. 

Old  Doc  Williams  was  not  of  a  suspicious  nature — 
far  be  it  from  him  to  suspect  one  of  his  nurses  of 
anything  unseemly — but  he  had  so  much  of  childlike 
vision  that  he  saw  things  that  were  hid  from  keener 
eyes — so  much  of  childlike  sympathy  that  he  was  con- 
stantly told  things  that  were  kept  from  sharper  minds. 
He  enjoyed  the  conversation  of  the  Reverend  Milton 
Stroud,  and  now  that  the  gentleman  was  at  last  al- 
lowed to  be  up  a  great  portion  of  the  day,  they  were 


DOC    GIVES    A    "  PERSCRIPTION  "        85 

much  together.  The  doctor  volunteered  an  original 
prescription  for  the  young  minister,  and  perhaps  he 
knew  when  he  offered  it  that  it  was  one  of  the  things 
that  was  in  the  young  man's  heart. 

"  When  ye  go  back  to  that  hard  work,  fust  thing  ye 
do,  git  a  helper,  ye  understan'  me.  Don't  try  a-bearin' 
all  them  burdens  alone." 

"  You  know  I  have  an  assistant,"  observed  the  min- 
ister. 

"  Yes,  an'  you  know  that  ain't  what  I  mean,"  said 
the  doctor. 

The  young  man  smiled  and  even  blushed. 

"  I  suppose  you  mean  get  a  wife.  I  thought  you 
doctors  didn't  advise  people  with  tuberculosis  to  get 
married." 

"  I  ain't  enough  of  a  scientific  doctor  to  be  real  sure 
of  what  we  do  advise.  I  don't  suppose  no  doctor 
advises  people  with  tuberculosis  to  git  married,  ye 
understan'  me.  But  they  is  such  a  thing  as  gettin'  over 
it,  or  we  wouldn't  be  runnin'  this  yere  place." 

"  You  feel  pretty  sure  I  will  get  over  it,  don't  you, 
Doctor?" 

"  I'm  callatin'  on  it.  We're  all  figurin'  a  heap  on 
you  gettin'  along  all  right." 

"And  then  you  think  I  could  marry?" 

"  I  ain't  settin'  up  as  no  authority,  but  here's  the 
way  I  think  'bout  that.  They's  a  awful  lot  o'  con- 
sumptives in  this  world,  ye  understan'  me.  'Pears  like 
a  good  many  of  'em  must  a-took  it  from  their  fathers 
an'  mothers.  But  a  lot  o'  real  clever  doctors,  like  them 
as  my  boy  Davy  is  workin'  with  acrost  the  water,  they 
say  as  if  the  fathers  an'  mothers  was  careful  the  chil- 
dren needn't  never  took  it.  They  wasn't  horned  with 
it,  ye  understan'  me.    They  just  took  it." 


§6  THE    CASTLE   OF   CHJEER 

"I've  heard  that  such  was  the  case.  It  does  make 
things  better." 

"  Well,  here's  your  own  case,  for  instance.  I  been 
runnin'  this  place  quite  a  whiles,  but  I  never  had  no- 
body here  'at  had  folks  writin'  to  us  like  yore  friends 
do.  Looks  like  you  was  putty  useful.  What's  best 
thing  to  do  with  ye,  seein*  yeVe  had  consumption? 
Shall  we  jest  shut  ye  up  so  nobody  else  ever  c'n  git  it 
from  ye  ?  Plumb  ridik'lous !  We  tells  ye  instead  how 
to  take  care  o'  yo.irself  so  ye  won't  be  dangerous., 
Shall  we  make  a  u  eful  man  like  you  alius  look  arter 
his  lone  self  for  fear  a  wife  might  git  it  f'm  him? 
Plumb  ridik'lous !  Fust  we  cure  ye  well  as  ye  can  be 
cured,  an'  then  ye  c'n  pick  out  a  strong,  hearty  woman 
as  ain't  the  least  bit  consumptive  herself,  an'  who's 
goin'  to  say  ye  shan't  marry  her?" 

"  Who  indeed  ?  "  murmured  the  young  man. 

*'  I  tell  ye,  the  way  they  writes,  ye  must  be  a  pow'ful 
useful  man.  Shall  we  say  as  yore  race  must  end  right 
here  for  fear  yore  children'll  be  consumptive  ?  Plumb 
ridik'lous.  We  marries  ye  to  a  hearty  woman  an'  ye 
raise  up  childem  in  such  a  way  that  any  consumptive 
tendencies  they  got  never  have  no  show  at  all,  ye 
understan'  me.  Shore  we  expects  ye  to  git  married. 
More'n  that,  we  perscribes  it.  An'  I  hope  ye'll  be  able 
to  git  the  perscription  filled." 

"  I  hope  I  may,"  agreed  the  Reverend  Milton 
Stroud.  "  You  have  no  one  you  would  recommend  ?  " 
he  asked,  artfully. 

"  I'd  prefer  not.  We  don't  deal  much  in  med'sins  at 
this  yere  place.  Most  all  we  give  is  good  food,  quiet, 
rest,  and  fresh  air.  An'  I  don't  lay  no  claim  to  know- 
in'  much  'bout  dangerous  mixtures,  noways.  I  might 
make  a  mistake  an'  give  ye  what  I've  heerd  'em  call 


DOC    GIVES    A    "  PERSCRIPTION  "        87 

an  incompatible,  ye  understan'  me."  The  old  man 
laughed.  "  Tell  ye,,  son,  ye'll  jest  have  to  go  to  the 
drug-store  yoreself." 

"  Very  well.  I'll  try  to  do  my  own  marketing;  but 
I  expect  to  have  it  clearly  understood  that  it  is  your 
prescription." 

He  began  to  think  that  he  knew  exactly  where  to 
take  the  prescription,  and,  so  confident  is  that  princely 
creature,  man,  it  did  not  occur  to  him  that  any  diffi- 
culty might  be  experienced  in  filling  it,  or  that  the 
ingredients  might  be  too  costly  for  his  purse. 


XIV 
QUIET  BUT  VERY  NICE 

MR.  JOHN  CALHOUN  LANGSTON  was 
the  junior  member  of  the  law  firm  of  Lang- 
ston  and  Langston,  which  transacted  all  of 
the  very  best  law  business  of  Latham  Centre.  It  is, 
perhaps,  only  fair  to  say  that  the  senior  member  was 
still  very  efficient  and  well  able  to  represent  the  in- 
terests of  the  firm  at  such  rather  numerous  times  as 
found  his  son,  heir,  and  partner  engaged  in  business 
other  than  legal,  though  perhaps  not  illegal. 

Young  Mr.  Langston  had  an  infinite  capacity  for 
enjoying  himself,  and  it  is  agreed  that  this  is  not  so 
uncommon  an  attribute.  But  he  also  possessed  the 
really  rare  trait  of  an  infinite  capacity  for  giving  en- 
joyment to  other  people.  Of  late  he  had  been  ably 
assisted  in  this  by  his  ownership  of  a  roomy  and 
powerful  touring-car.  It  hummed  a  soothing  song  to 
itself  at  the  door  of  the  administration  building  of 
the  sanatorium  as  Johnny  argued  his  case  with  the  old 
doctor. 

"Ain't  never  been  in  one  yet,  Johnny,"  said  the 
doctor.  "  No,  I  ain't  feared  of  'em.  I  rode  under- 
ground in  London  and  overhead  in  Chicago,  an'  He 
looked  arter  me  both  ways.  But  I  can't  say  as  I  jest 
likes  'em,  ye  understan'  me.  Ye  go  whizzin'  along  an' 
ye  can't  see  nothin'  at  all.  Think  o'  the  sensation !  ye 
say.  'Tain't  nothin'  to  a  old  man  like  me.  I'd  ruther 
the  sensation  of  seein'  a  new  flower  by  the  side  o'  the 

88 


QUIET    BUT    VERY    NICE  89 

road,  or  a  bird  swa^in'  back  an'  forth  on  the  wire,  or 
a  rabbit  runnin'  out  o'  the  brush.  Jest  f  eeHn'  the  wind 
sweepin'  my  face  an'  gettin'  a  hazy  blur  of  nothin'  as 
my  old  eyes  tries  to  take  things  in,  ain't  no  sensation 
for  me,  ye  understan'  me.  Ask  this  gel  Gladys  to  go. 
It's  her  arte r noon  off." 

Let  no  one  think  for  a  moment  that  Johnny  knew 
that  it  was  this  gel's  arternoon  off  and  had  planned 
for  such  a  conclusion.  But  having  the  opportunity 
thus  thrust  upon  him  he  allowed  none  of  his  skill  in 
special  pleading  tp  go  unused  in  urging  the  arrange- 
ment. It  wasn't  at  all  the  thing  for  nurses  to  go  rid- 
ing in  automobiles  in  that  way,  and  Doctor  should 
have  known  better.  But  we  would  see  what  sister 
Mary  had  to  say.  Sister  Mary  didn't  like  the  arrange- 
ment at  all,  but  it  happened  that  she  was  greatly  in 
need  of  some  supplies  from  Lewistown,  a  rather  dreary 
journey__by  train,  but  a  delightful  spin  by  auto- 
mobile, and  so,  just  this  once,  perhaps,  it  wouldn't 
matter. 

Just  this  once!  Once  is  plenty  for  Johnny  Lang- 
ston.  Once  is  all  that  he,  a  man  of  action,  has  any 
right  to  ask.  If  there  were  any  doubt — if  there  could 
by  any  possibility  be  the  least  shadow  of  a  doubt  of  the 
inclination  of  his  own  heart,  or  the  mighty  desirability 
of  the  gracious  prize  that  his  heart  covets,  it  might  be 
different.  But  so  sure  is  he,  both  of  his  desires  and 
their  desirability,  that  once  is  everything;  he  could 
have  no  use  for  more  times  than  once  if  they  were 
showered  upon  him. 

There  is  no  likelihood  that  the  modern  young  man 
will  ever  find  in  any  kind  of  pleasure-machine — be  it 
aerial  or  earthly — the  remarkable  adjuvant  to  love- 
making  that  was  enjoyed  by  his  fathers  in  the  days  of 


90  THE    CASTLE   OF    CHEER 

the  good  old  family  horse  and  top-buggy.  The  auto- 
mobile may  be  almost  fool-proof,  and  will  nearly  run 
itself;  but  there  was  no  "  almost  "  or  "  nearly  ''  about 
the  old  horse  and  buggy;  you  simply  let  the  lines  slip 
over  the  dash  and  turned  it  loose.  Johnny  was  un- 
usually expert  in  the  management  of  the  automobile, 
but  no  machine  capable  of  sixty  miles  an  hour  may  be 
turned  loose.  At  least  one  eye  must  always  be  to  the 
front,  and  at  least  one  hand  must  control  the  wheel. 
When  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  will  allow  your  wild, 
uprearing  steed  to  leave  the  beaten  track  and  rush 
madly  on  a  crusade  against  windmills  or  telephone- 
poles  as  the  case  may  be,  it  is  best  to  keep  one's  eyes 
from  twinkling.  A  vehicle  of  such  speed  that  it  needs 
only  the  time  of  a  sneeze  to  collide  with  a  telegraph- 
pole,  and  of  such  power  as  to  make  the  telegraph-pole 
feel  that  it  has  met  an  irresistible  force,  is  not  to  be 
allowed  the  latitude  or  given  the  confidence  that  we  of 
old  reposed  in  the  old  family  horse. 

Johnny  had  not  anticipated  doing  much  of  anything 
but  talking,  but  he  had  expected  to  do  a  great  deal  of 
that.  Talking  was  the  easiest  thing  he  did  and  it  was 
rare  indeed  that  he  was  at  any  loss  for  a  subject.  He 
had  already  had  the  pleasure  of  a  few  conversations 
with  Miss  Gladys  and  they  had  been  quite  easy  and 
natural.  To-day  he  would  be,  he  must  be,  more  cap- 
tivating and  more  convincing  than  ever.  Knowing  all 
this  he  yet  found  it  hard  to  start.  Gladys  also  seemed 
to  feel  that  the  situation  had  its  delicacies  and  was 
too  embarrassed  to  be  of  any  help  to  him.  Nothing 
that  he  could  start  induced  more  than  monosyllabic 
replies. 

He  tried  one  unsuccessful  subject  after  another. 
Perhaps  she  could  talk  nursing.     She  certainly  knew 


QUIET    BUT    VERY    NICE  91 

the  subject  and  he  felt  that  he  knew  a  little  about  it 
or  at  least  about  its  practitioners. 

"  The  career  of  a  nurse  is  certainly  a  noble  one/* 
he  explained  with  the  magnanimity  of  one  who  makes 
a  great  concession. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  such  a  statement  merits  more 
than  a  one-syllable  comment,"  he  complained. 

"  What  would  you  like  me  to  say  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.  We  are  talking  about  your 
grand  and  noble  profession." 

"  Yes,  I  hear  those  adjectives  used  every  time  I 
attend  a  graduating  exercise  or  hear  a  public  address 
about  nursing." 

"  You  see,  then,  that  the  sentiment  is  unanimous." 

"  Not  exactly;  there  are  the  nurses,  you  know." 

"  You  mean  to  say  they  don't  agree." 

"  I  do  not  hear  them  speak  much  about  it  being 
grand  and  noble.  I  have  heard  them  say  it  was  killing 
hard,  I  have  heard  them  say  they  were  dead  on 
their  feet,  I  have  heard  them  speak  of  a  fat  case,  and 
I  have  heard  them  admit  it  was  better  than  scrubbing; 
but  aside  from  graduating  exercises  I  haven't  heard 
them  say  much  about  grand  and  noble." 

"  I  suspect  that  you  are  squelching  me,  young  lady. 
I  have  a  feeling  that  I  am  being  subdued." 

"The  novelty  appeals  to  you,  doesn't  it?" 

"  My  suspicion  grows  upon  me." 

"  I  wish  that  I  might  dispel  it ;  but  when  you 
take  that  tone  it  is  hard  to  get  back  to  sensible  sub- 
jects." 

"  You  do  not  wish  to  talk  about  the  grand  and 
noble  profession." 

"  Under  the  circumstances,  I  do  not." 


92  THE    CASTLE   OF   CHEER 

"You  weary  of  your  profession?  You  wish  to 
escape  it?'' 

"  I  didn't  say  so." 

"  True  enough,  but  the  wish  is  impHed.  Let  me  tell 
you  of  a  way." 

No,  Mr.  John  Calhoun  Langston,  you  may  not. 
You  are  very  quick  to  make  an  opportunity,  but  so 
also  is  this  young  lady  quick  to  perceive  your  thoughts 
and  purposes.    She  is  quite  equal  to  her  own  defense. 

"  Let  me  tell  you  of  a  way  in  which  you  may  escape 
your  profession.  A  lawyer  who  finds  so  much  time 
for  automobile  rides  very  evidently  does  not  enjoy  his 
grand  and  noble  profession." 

"  Now  you  are  severe.  That's  a  regular  trouncing 
you've  given  me.  But  go  on.  Just  so  you  don't  tell 
me  to  seek  some  field  of  really  useful  labour." 

"  I  don't  suppose  you  would  consider  it  labour. 
You  do  so  well  at  it  and  enjoy  it  so  much,  I  was  about 
to  suggest  that  you  become  a  professional  chauffeur. 
Then  your  life  would  be  one  long  sweet  dream  of 
bliss." 

"  This  is  what  a  man  gets  for  tearing  himself  away 
from  important  business  in  order  to  see  that  the  sup- 
plies of  The  Castle  of  Cheer  shall  not  fail." 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Langston.  I  had  not 
realized  the  real  spring  of  your  effort." 

"  I  am  but  seldom  fully  appreciated,  Miss  Gladys. 
Don't  apologize.  It  is  a  common  thing  for  my  helpful 
efforts  to  be  overlooked." 

They  were  nearing  Lewistown. 

"  Do  you  know  where  to  find  the  best  druggist,  Mr. 
Langston?  " 

"  Trust  me.  I  am  Johnny  Langston  in  this  town. 
I  went  to  school  here,  in  the  good  old  days,  with  Dave 


QUIET    BUT    VERY    NICE  9S 

Williams,  the  doctor's  famous  son.  It  is  only  the 
very  new  things  in  Lewistown  that  are  unfamiliar  to 
Johnny." 

And  when  they  drew  up  at  the  druggist's  the  young 
nurse  found  that  his  words  were  no  idle  boast.  Every 
one  knew  him,  every  one  called  him  Johnny,  and 
every  one  seemed  anxious  to  serve  him.  The  only  de- 
lay to  their  supplies  was  the  anxiety  of  the  clerks  to 
engage  him  in  conversation.  Johnny  had  other  pur- 
poses in  mind,  which  required  that  but  Httle  time  be 
wasted  in  Lewistown,  but  he  graciously  drove  his  com- 
panion back  by  way  of  the  college,  pointed  out  the 
principal  buildings,  especially  Carryall  Home,  the  fine 
new  house  of  his  old  fraternity,  and  gave  a  rambling 
account  of  some  of  his  achievements  and  a  more 
definite  statement  of  those  of  his  adored  chum,  David 
Williams. 

Then  they  were  once  more  on  the  country  road, 
homeward  bound.  Having  managed  the  coming  jour- 
ney successfully  it  was  only  reasonable  that  Gladys 
should  feel  confident  of  the  return  trip.  There  was 
just  one  important  factor  of  interference,  however — 
Johnny  Langston  was  really  in  earnest.  What  he  had 
to  say  must  be  expressed  and  there  was  no  opportunity 
like  "  this  once."  He  did  not  propose  to  say  anything 
while  he  was  engineering  an  automobile  and  neither 
did  he  propose  to  say  it  where  interference  was  likely. 
Gladys  noticed  that  they  were  returning  by  a  different 
road. 

"  It's  just  as  good,"  Johnny  assured  her,  "  and  it 
gives  you  a  chance  to  see  more  of  the  country.  It's 
quiet  but  it's  very  nice." 

It  was  quiet.  They  drove  ten  miles  without  meet- 
ing a  traveller  of  any  description,  and  it  grew  both 


94  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

quieter  and  nicer  all  the  way.  There  was  no  escape 
from  its  spell,  a  stillness  that  was  almost  solemn,  mile 
after  mile  and  no  one  but  they  two,  a  stretch  of  beau- 
tiful meadow,  somewhat  browned  by  the  August  sun, 
but  magnificent  in  its  colour,  a  rippling  ford  which  still 
held  water  enough  to  come  nearly  up  to  their  engine, 
a  plunge  into  enchanting  woodland  and  a  quiet  run 
through  it  for  more  than  a  mile,  with  sudden  turns 
from  one  scene  of  unexpected  beauty  to  another  still 
more  beautiful — and  then  the  car  stopped  suddenly, 
and  the  smiling  chauffeur,  his  face  a  little  grave,  was 
down  at  once  and  throwing  back  the  hood  for  inspec- 
tion of  his  cylinders. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed.  Miss  Gladys,"  he  assured  her. 
"  A  little  overheating  is  all.  We  shall  have  to  wait 
just  a  little  while  for  cooling." 

"  It  won't  delay  us  so  long  that  we  shall  not  get 
back  in  time  for  supper?"  asked  Gladys,  with  vivid 
recollections  of  previous  embarrassment. 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind.  Just  a  short  stop  and  we 
shall  be  on  the  road  again.  Better  get  out  and  get 
the  cramp  out  of  your  muscles." 

Who  could  be  churlish  in  such  surroundings,  on 
such  a  day,  after  such  a  ride,  with  such  a  boy?  Cer- 
tainly not  Gladys.  It  seemed  the  view  was  very  fine 
just  around  the  bend,  so  there  they  went.  And  there 
was  no  doubt  about  it.  It  was  fine.  It  added  a  little 
more  to  the  glamour  of  the  afternoon.  Gladys  sat  on 
an  old.  stump  and  surveyed  the  valley  before  her,  with 
its  woods  and  its  water  and  its  great  play  of  colour,  in 
glowing  ecstasy. 

"  Do  you  like  the  looks  of  it?  "  asked  the  schemer. 

"  It  is  glorious !  "  exclaimed  Gladys.  "  Such  peace, 
-such  rest  and  comfort,  such  grand  colouring  and  so 


QUIET    BUT    VERY    NICE  95 

happily  arranged.  It  is  a  perfectly  beautiful 
spot." 

"  I  am  glad  you  like  it.  I  want  to  give  it  to  you," 
came  the  startling  announcement.  "  It  is  mine,  my 
farm.  The  Judge  gave  it  to  me  when  I  was  twenty- 
one,  and  I  want  to  give  it  to  you,  the  only  condition 
being  that  I  go  with  the  farm." 

John  Calhoun  Langston  probably  thought  that  he 
had  managed  this  very  cleverly,  but,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  he  had  merely  demonstrated  that,  in  spite  of  his 
many  love-affairs,  he  had  no  real  experience  in  love- 
making. 

'^  Why,  Mr.  Langston,"  exclaimed  the  princess; 
'*  what  a  ridiculous  thing  for  you  to  say !  " 

Like  a  flash  Johnny  perceived  his  error. 

"  Not  at  all !  There  is  nothing  ridiculous  about  it. 
I  put  it  in  a  ridiculous  way,  perhaps.  What  I  should 
say.  Miss  Gladys,  is  that  I  have  loved  you  ever  since  I 
first  saw  you,  and  that  you  are  the  woman " 

"  Stop,  Mr.  Langston,  please.  You  have  known  me 
only  a  few  weeks  and  you  have  not  any  opportunity 
to  judge.  I  think  it  is  just  fine  of  you  to  feel  nice 
toward  me,  but  you  must  not  say  anything  like 
that." 

"  And  why  may  I  not  say  what  I  feel  ?  " 

*'  For  one  thing,  you  don't  feel  it.  You  couldn't, 
you  know,  in  so  short  a  time.  For  another  thing,  I 
don't  feel  it.  And  for  yet  another  thing,  even  if  I  did 
feel  it,  I  am  practically  promised  to  another  man." 

At  this  last  declaration  the  pleading  young  man 
opened  his  eyes  wide  in  astonishment — he  changed 
colour — he  grasped  the  top  rail  of  the  old  fence  by  his 
side  and  tore  it  tumbling  down.  This  was  no  trifling 
affair. 


96  THE    CASTLE   OP   CHEER 

"  It  is  impossible !  "  he  cried.  **  It  is  quite  impos- 
sible." 

She  would  have  pitied  him  more  had  he  said  some- 
thing more  politic. 

"  I  don't  see  what  is  so  impossible,"  she  retorted. 

"  That  you  should  belong  to  another  man.  You 
are  mine.  I  felt  it  the  first  day  I  saw  you.  I  have 
felt  it  so  ever  since.  I  have  known  it  all  this  long 
afternoon  we  have  spent  together.  You  are  mine. 
What  do  you  mean  by  practically  promised  ?  " 

Logic  is  often  shaken  by  earnest  insistence.  This 
was  not  the  easy,  smiling  Langston  she  had  known. 
This  was  a  man  determinedly  in  earnest.  She  was  not 
so  sure  about  her  statement.  It  seemed  now  to  be 
rather  poorly  based.  But  she  was  brave,  somewhat  of 
a  fighter,  and  not  easily  dominated. 

"  There  is  a  man  who  wants  me  and  I  know  that  he 
wants  me,  and  he  is  a  noble  man,  and  my  sister  and 
I  have  practically  agreed  upon  him.  I  tell  you  this,  of 
course,  in  sacred  confidence.  You  may  say  that  it  is 
cold-blooded  calculation.  Well  and  good.  It  is  our 
way.  We  owe  him  great  things,  especially  sister,  and 
he  is  first." 

The  colour  came  back  to  Johnn/s  face  and  he 
laughed  in  relief. 

"  I  was  afraid  it  was  something  really  serious,"  he 
declared.  **  Such  a  claim  is  nothing  against  mine.  I 
am  first.  No  one  else  can  be,  for  you  are  mine.  You 
belong  to  me.  I  know  you  belong  to  me,  and  you  know 
you  belong  to  me.  It  is  your  sister  who  must  meet 
your  obligations.     Tell  me,  who  is  the  man?  " 

His  tone  was  compelling.  He  made  no  difficulty 
whatever  about  asking  so  intimate  a  question.  But 
she  did  not  dispute  his  right. 


QUIET   BUT   VERY   NICE  97 

"  It  is  the  minister,  Mr.  Stroud/'  she  said. 

"  I  have  observed  Mr.  Stroud,"  remarked  Johnny. 
'*  He  is  not  in  love  with  you.  I  would  know  it  in  a 
minute  if  he  were.  My  antipathies  would  tell  me. 
Perhaps,"  he  added,  thoughtfully,  "  perhaps  he  is  in 
love  with  your  sister." 

"  My  sister  will  never  marry,"  said  Gladys.  "  There 
are  things  which  you  can  never  know.  Mr.  Stroud 
has  practically  said  that  he  is  in  love  with  me  and  I 
have  practically  promised  to  marry  him.  We  owe 
him  great  things  and  I  must  keep  my  promise." 

"  Practically,  you  say,  practically !  That  is  not  love. 
Love  may  be  practical  but  love-making  rises  far  above 
such  a  level.  Now  I  am  quite  sure.  If  you  attempt 
to  marry  Mr.  Stroud  I  will  come  and  steal  you  away 
from  him  at  the  altar.    You  belong  to  me !  " 

Thus  Johnny  declared,  but  he  insisted  no  more  at 
that  time.  They  walked  back  to  the  machine,  which 
now  seemed  to  have  transferred  its  heat  to  its  driver, 
and  the  supplies  for  The  Castle  were  delivered  well 
before  the  supper  hour. 

The  head  nurse  keenly  watched  the  young  people 
as  they  separated,  and  resolved  that  no  more  such 
opportunities  should  be  allowed.  But  it  was  a  late 
hour  for  locking  the  door,  now  that  "  this  once  "  had 
passed. 


XV 
A  REGULAR  FAITH  HEALER 

1ATHAM  CENTRE  and  its  country  surrounding 
admits  no  rivalry  in  the  quality  of  its  Septem- 
■^  ber  mornings.  Soft  and  still  the  air,  mellow 
with  the  scents  of  harvest,  cool  with  the  faintest 
promise  of  the  bracing  winter  which  lies  away  off  in 
the  indefinite  future,  bright  with  a  radiance  which 
gratifies  without  oppressing,  which  sparkles  rather 
than  glares,  warm  with  a  heat  which  comforts  every 
eager  cell  but  wearies  none.  It  is  pleasure  to  breathe 
in  it,  joy  to  walk  in  it,  rapture  to  work  in  it. 

On  such  a  September  morning  the  Reverend  Milton 
Stroud  came  back  from  his  first  long  walk.  He  had 
long  since  learned  that  a  cure  for  tuberculosis  was  not 
a  thirty-day  order.  His  two  months  had  passed.  He 
felt  better,  much  better.  He  felt  more  virile  strength 
and  manly  ardour  than  he  had  known  for  many 
months.  But  a  serious  talk  by  Doctor  Goodman,  after 
a  careful  examination,  had  convinced  him  that  his 
anxious  flock  in  the  great  city  of  Chicago  must  be 
content  with  the  ministrations  of  an  under-shepherd 
for  still  more  months. 

"  Ain't  no  good  expectin'  grain  to  come  up  over 
night,''  Doc  Williams  had  said  comfortingly.  "  It'll 
come  all  right.  Ye  can't  see  no  sign  at  fust  but  na- 
ture's busy  all  the  time;  it's  on  the  way.  Soon  the 
little  green  shoots  pops  their  heads  up  above  the  good 
old  brown  earth.    But  even  then  ye  don't  run  an'  shout 

98 


A    REGULAR    FAITH    HEALER  99 

'  Here  it  is.  It's  all  ready  for  harvest.'  No  good 
a-doin'  that,  ye  understan'  me.  Ye  waits  till  ye  gets 
the  full  corn  in  the  ear  afore  ye  feels  like  harvestin'. 
Same  way  with  the  cure.  Them  as  gits  anything  out 
of  it  is  the  ones  as  waits  an'  lets  Nature  keep  on  with 
her  work  till  the  cells  is  ripened  an'  all  built  up." 

This  morning  he  met  the  doctor  at  the  door  of  the 
main  building  just  as  the  old  man  had  completed  the 
round  of  visits  of  comfort  and  cheer  with  which,  twice 
each  day,  he  attended  every  patient  of  the  sanatorium 
who  was  confined  to  bed. 

"  Momin'  to  you,"  he  greeted  Stroud.  "  Don't  He 
send  us  some  beautiful  days?  " 

"  I  have  never  seen,  or  smelled,  or  felt  their  equal," 
responded  the  Reverend  Milton  Stroud,  with  emphasis. 

"  *  This  is  the  day  which  the  Lord  hath  made.  We 
will  rejoice  and  be  glad  in  it,'  "  quoted  the  doctor. 

"  It  is  easier  to  rejoice  as  health  comes  back." 

"  Sit  down  an'  git  rested  after  yore  walk,"  invited 
the  doctor.  ''  Ye  haven't  seemed  to  have  s'  much  on 
yore  soul  lately.  He's  a-liftin'  some  o'  the  burden, 
ain't  He?" 

"  He  certainly  is.  Doctor.  And  you  don't  allow  me 
for  a  moment  to  forget  who  is  doing  it.  I  declare  you 
are  a  regular  faith  healer." 

"  I  hope  I'm  a  faith  healer,"  the  old  man  agreed, 
quietly.  "  I  do  hope  I'm  a  faith  healer.  I  ben  in  the 
healin'  business  by  His  grace  a  many  years  now  an' 
never  did  I  see  a'body  healed  but  what  I  knew  He  done 
it.  But,  mind  ye,  I  ain't  a  faith  healer  like  that  in- 
stitootion  down  to  the  village,  ye  understan'  me." 

The  old  doctor  called  Latham  Centre  "  the  village  " 
just  as  he  had  done  when  it  was  nothing  but  "the 
Corners." 


100  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

"  Is  there  one  there  ?  " 

"  It's  among  the  added  attractions,"  the  old  man 
assured  him,  drily.  "  They  calls  it  a  school.  The  vil- 
lage is  all  et  up  with  schools  an'  institootions  nowa- 
days, an'  mebbe  they  all  do  some  good  if  it  ain't  only 
jest  to  let  off  steam.  This  here  school  of  divine  heal- 
ers is  run  by  a  woman,  but  she  has  some  helpers  with 
whiskers  to  'em.  She  don't  need  no  man  to  boost  her 
howsumdever,  I'll  say  that.  She  ain't  a  bit  backward, 
noways,  ye  understan'  me." 

"  I  hope  she  doesn't  come  here,"  said  Stroud. 

"  Not  so's  to  get  in ;  not  usually  that  is.  The  gels  is 
putty  good  guards  but  wunst  in  a  while  she  breaks 
through,  say  when  they's  havin'  their  rest  hour  or 
somethin'.  She  got  at  me  jest  t'other  day.  Thought 
mebbe  I  could  close  her  up  tellin'  her  what  science  done 
wunst  fer  my  boy,  Davy.  She  jest  don't  believe  in 
scientific  med'sin  a  little  bit.  She  don't  mind  s'  much 
if  a'body  takes  a  yarb  tea  but  a  thing  *at  is  real  science 
is  wuss'n  a  red  rag  fer  her.  So  I  told  her  all  'bout 
Davy's  tussle  with  dipthery,  ye  understan'  me,  an'  never 
stopped  goin'  till  Doc  Goodman  had  shot  in  his  last 
dose  of  antitoxin  an*  the  boy  was  beginnin'  to  look 
like  he  might  linger  on.  Affected  me  so  it  was  jes'  like 
livin'  it  over  again,  an'  time  I'd  reached  my  finish  I 
was  plumb  triumphant  to  think  what  a  vallable  life 
had  been  perserved.  An'  there  she  was  a-weepin'! 
Thinks  I,  '  Yo're  closed  u^  fer  wunst.  Missus.'  " 

"  I  suppose  it  was  a  triumph  of  fact  over  theory," 
commented  Stroud. 

"  Thought  so  myself,  but  it  warn't  a  triumph  nor 
nothin'  o'  the  kind.  What  d'ye  think  that  woman  was 
weepin'  'bout?" 


A   REGULAR   FAITH    HEALER         101 

"  I  give  it  up.  Such  people  have  always  been  incom- 
prehensible to  me/'  admitted  Mr.  Stroud. 

"Well,  she  outs  v^ith  it  in  jest  a  minute,  an'  I 
wouldn't  hev  knowed  what  she  was  drivin'  at  only  I 
remembered  'at  I  had  tried  to  tell  her  how  Davy  had 
explained  that  the  antitoxin  was  bred  in  horses  and 
tested  on  guinea  pigs.  She  says  jest  a-sobbin'  hard 
every  minute,  *  Oh,  Doctor,'  she  says,  *  to  think  o' 
what  them  pore  guinea  pigs  must  ha'  suffered ! ' 

"  '  Mrs.  P.,'  I  says,  real  savage,  '  I  remember  readin' 
somwheres  'bout  a  man  who  was  ravin'  mad  with 
devils.  The  Master,  He  comes  along,  an'  at  His  word 
them  devils  goes  plumb  into  a  drove  of  swine  an'  they 
goes  snortin'  down  into  the  sea  an'  the  book  says  they 
perished,  ye  understan'  me.  But  they  found  the  man, 
Mrs.  P.,  they  found  the  man  clothed  in  his  right 
mind.' 

"  I  can  jest  imagine  I  see  some  one  comin'  along 
then  and  sayin',  '  Oh,  them  pore  pigs ! '  I  can  imagine 
what  the  Master,  He  would  have  said." 

"  It  must  have  been  a  severe  rebuke  to  the  woman," 
said  Mr.  Stroud.  "  I  imagine  it  settled  her  for  the 
time,  anyway." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,  sir.  You  don't  know  that  good 
lady.  She  did  git  a  set-back  a  while  since  when  Mary- 
Shane  got  home  from  Chicago.  She  ain't  never  been 
quite  the  same  sence  Mary  come  home.  Mary  was  a 
good  deal  of  a  knock-outer  for  quite  a  many  of  'em. 
They'd  ben  insistin'  all  she  needed  was  a  little  more 
faith  an'  insistin'  on  it  fer  months,  an'  she  right  in 
the  school  all  the  time.  Davy  comes  home  last  year 
fer  a  visit  an'  knowin'  what  a  great  man  an'  a  good 
man  he  is  she  asked  him  whether  he  thought  a  little 
more  faith  would  do  it.    Davy  he  says,  *  yes,  it  certn'y 


102  THE    CASTLE    OF   CHEER 

would/  Jes*  as  much  more  faith  as  was  needed  to 
git  her  up  to  Chicago  with  him,  ye  understan'  me.  I 
dunno  jest  what  operation  they  done  on  her  eyes  but 
it  done  the  work  all  right,  that's  sure.  She  come  back 
here  to  look  into  faces  she  hadn't  seen  fer  twenty  years 
an'  to  look  into  the  eyes  of  the  grown-up  daughter  she 
saw  last  as  a  little  babby." 

"  That  was  certainly  a  blow  for  the  healers,"  sug- 
gested Mr.  Stroud. 

"  Ye  might  think  so.  Ye  might  think  they'd  con- 
cede a  little  somep'n  to  the  surgeons  arter  that.  But 
don't  ye  believe  it.  They  was  two  explanations.  One 
was  that  her  unbelievin'  husband  had  always  balked 
their  prayers  an'  when  she  went  to  Chicago  it  tuk  her 
out  o'  the  spear  of  his  influence  an'  so  their  prayers  at 
last  was  answered,  ye  understan'  me.  The  other  ex- 
planation was  that  it  wasn't  God's  work  at  all  but  the 
work  of  the  devil.  I  never  can  see  why  people  as  is 
so  good  that  they  ain't  room  for  more'n  a  few  o'  their 
kind  in  the  hull  earth  finds  it  necessary  to  be  so  blas- 
phemous when  things  goes  again  'em." 

"  I  suppose  it  makes  you  feel  like  saying  there  is  no 
good  whatsoever  in  faith  healing?  " 

"  Not  exac'ly.  I  don't  even  say  they's  no  good 
in  the  lady  down  to  the  village.  Her  idees  is  mixed. 
Davy  said  when  he  was  here  that  if  he  took  up  with 
their  idee  of  considerin'  every  ailment  a  punishment 
inflicted  by  a  severe  Judge  for  some  misdemeaniour 
he  would  diagnose  their  trouble  as  a  mental  perversion 
inflicted  upon  'em  for  the  sin  o'  thinkin'  that  God's 
most  important  requirement  is  f ussin'  over  our  own  in- 
dividual ailments.  He  said  he  was  ready  to  admit  the 
importance  of  thinkin'  the  thoughts  an'  doin'  the  deeds 
that'll  keep  our  circ'lation  an'  digestion  good,  but  the 


A    REGULAR    FAITH    HEALER         lOS 

person  that's  alius  makin'  a  special  point  o'  this  de- 
stroys his  own  automatic  control." 

"  Meaning  that  when  we  begin  the  attempt  to  con- 
sciously direct  our  organs  we  weaken  the  automatic 
regulation  which  is  far  more  important!" 

"  Yore  language  puts  it  just  about  right,"  the  old 
doctor  agreed.  "  *  Take  no  thought  for  yore  body/  He 
said,  an'  it's  a  lot  best  not  to,  ye  understan'  me.'* 

"  But  these  faith  healers  claim  some  wonderful 
cures?" 

"  They  certn'y  do.  An'  they  makes  the  most  of  'em. 
One  cure  'at  took  place  back  in  '88  will  fill  a  book  that 
can  be  circ'lated  over  five  continents  an'  keep  up  its 
circ'Iation  a  quarter  century,  ye  understan'  me.  But 
say,  tell  me  now.  Did  ye  ever  hear  of  Mary  Shane's 
cure  before  ?  " 

"  I  never  did,"  admitted  the  minister. 

''  But  now,  supposin'  by  some  miracle  it  had  been 
done  in  these  faith  healers'  school,  would  ye  heard  of 
it?" 

*'  I  suppose  it  would  possibly  have  been  in  every 
newspaper  in  the  land." 

"  It  most  surely  would.  An'  they'd  have  Mary 
write  a  book  an'  it  would  have  ben  sold  through  ten 
editions  by  now,  ye  understan'  me.  But  why  didn't 
that  surgeon  write  a  book  'bout  it  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  Perhaps  because  it's  his  regular 
business." 

"  Ye  hit  it.  Ye  hit  the  nail  plumb  on  the  head,  son. 
It's  his  regular  business,  ye  understan'  me.  He's  doin' 
it  right  along,  p'raps  not  every  day  but  often  enough 
so  it  ain't  by  no  means  uncommon.  An'  they's  thou- 
san's  of  doctors  an'  surgeons  doin'  just  such  work 
every  day  that  goes — work  that  couldn't  be  did  fifty 


104  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

years  ago,  twenty  years  ago,  not  ten  years  ago.  What 
c'n  ye  say  'bout  folks  as  deliberately  shuts  their  eyes  to 
all  that?" 

"But  don't  you  believe  in  faith  healing  at  all? " 

"  Most  surely,  most  surely,  son,  I  certainly  do.  I 
believe  in  it  every  day.  I  see  it  every  day  right  aroun' 
me.  Every  day  that  you  lay  still  in  yore  bed  on  the 
porch  there,  and  breathed  in  the  pure  air  an'  expected 
that  maybe  next  mornin'  yore  temperature  would  be 
somers  near  normal  you  was  a  subject  of  faith  heal- 
ing." 

"  I  see.  I  quite  agree.  But  about  the  extraordinary 
cures;  those  where  it  seems  so  clear  that  man's  ex- 
tremity is  God's  opportunity  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I  believes  in  them  too,  son,  an'  every  God- 
fearin'  doctor  does.  But  it  has  to  be  man's  extremity 
— his  extremity,  ye  understan'  me.  I  believe  God  made 
the  ravens  feed  the  prophet  at  a  certain  time,  but  I 
also  believe  that,  when  times  of  plenty  come,  if  the 
prophet  had  said,  *  Well,  that  was  sure  easy  pickin'. 
I  guess  them  ravens  can  consider  themselves  hired  for 
a  steady  job,'  he'd  had  a  awful  hollow  feelin'  in  his 
stomach  'fore  long,  ye  understan'  me.  It's  the  same 
principle  that  makes  me  right  sure  He  didn't  endow 
herbs  an'  plants  an'  minerals  with  all  kind  o'  healing 
less'n  He  expected  man  to  use  'em." 

"  You  think  the  doctor  should  only  ask  God's  help 
when  he  has  no  help  of  his  own?  " 

"  Ye  don't  put  that  as  pretty  as  ye  might,  parson. 
Why  not  ask  God's  help  anyway  ?  S'posin'  I  ask  Him 
'bout  a  dipthery  patient.  He'll  prob'ly  say,  '  Certn'y, 
Doc,  give  him  some  antitoxin.'  S'posin'  I  give  it  an' 
he  ain't  no  better,  an'  I  give  all  else  I  know  an'  he 
ain't  no  better;   I'd  go  back  to  Him  an'   I'd  say, 


A   REGULAR    FAITH    HEALER         105 

*  Lord,  I've  done  all  I  know.  Tve  used  everything 
Fve  got.  Show  me  some  other  kind.  If  there's  noth- 
ing more  you  can  show  me  to  use,  Lord,  heal  him  by 
Thy  mighty  word  jest  as  Jesus  healed  'em  when  He 
was  here.  Only  help  him  back  to  the  work  'at  needs 
him,  if  it  be  Thy  will.'  " 

*'  But  you  know,  Doctor,  they  believe  that  God  pre- 
fers to  exercise  such  power  as  Jesus  used  during  His 
earthly  stay,  in  every  case." 

"  That's  the  way  they  tell  it,  son.  They  say  they 
do.  I've  observed  some  very  strikin'  differences, 
though.  You  look  up  all  the  healin'  of  Jesus  that's 
on  record,  an'  you'll  notice  one  thing  'at  alius  hap- 
pened. When  He  spoke  the  word  they  was  healed  at 
once.  The  blind  saw — the  lame  walked — the  man  who 
was  carried  in  on  a  bed  picked  it  up  an'  walked  right  off 
with  it,  ye  understan'  me.  It  ain't  so  with  their  healin', 
not  so  as  I've  noticed.  It  takes  time  jes'  like  mine 
does.    They  don't  make  good  with  me,  son." 

"  You  don't  usually  pray  for  miracles,  then  ?  " 

"  Depends  on  what  ye  mean.  I  couldn't  jes'  fancy 
myself  saying,  *  Lord,  hear  me  now  about  this  case 
o'  sickness.  You  know  me,  Lord.  I'm  old  Doc  ye 
always  thinks  s'  much  of.  I  don't  want  to  go  arter 
no  med'sin.  Lord.  Work  me  one  o'  them  miracles  'at 
always  seemed  to  come  so  easy  when  Jesus  was 
here.' 

"  No,  I  couldn't  fancy  that,  but  I  might  say  " — the 
unconscious  dramatist's  voice  changed  from  the  easy 
familiarity  of  his  mimicry  to  one  of  deep  reverence : 

*' '  Lord,  this  is  a  mighty  bad  case.  There's  a  heap 
o'  remedies,  Lord.    Help  me  choose  the  right  one.' 

"And  if  it  didn't  work  I  might  go  back  an'  say: 

"  '  Lord,  teach  me  something  else  to  do.    Send  some 


106  THE    CASTLE   OF   CHEER 

one  else  to  help.'  And  if  it  still  failed  I'd  be  bold  then 
to  throw  myself  on  His  grace  an'  say: 

" '  Lord,  I  ain't  ben  able  to  do  a  thing.  But,  oh, 
Lord,  there's  many  a  thing  beyond  me  in  Thy  bounte- 
ous store.  Oh,  Lord,  help  us.  Make  bare  Thy  mighty 
arm.     Work  Thy  miracles  of  healing,  Lord.' 

"  An'  I  believe  I  know  some  times  when  He's  done 
it." 


XVI 
ADVANCE  FEE— TWO  HUNDRED  DOLLARS! 

THE  manager  of  New  Hope,  Doctor  Middane, 
professed  himself  to  the  citizens  of  Latham 
Centre  as  both  aggrieved  and  injured  by  the 
treatment  accorded  him  by  Doctor  Goodman.  He  re- 
sented especially  the  imputation  that  he  would  turn 
away  a  person  whose  money  was  low.  As  a  matter  of 
fact  Doctor  Middane  turned  no  man  away  because  he 
had  but  little  money — it  was  the  one  guilty  of  possess- 
ing none  at  all  who  received  his  merited  scorn.  It  was 
true  the  doctor  could  not  offer  bed  and  board  to  those 
who  had  but  scant  supply,  but  he  could  and  frequently 
did  sell  them  a  home  cure,  in  the  shape  of  his  Oxy- 
ju  vena  tor. 

This  was  a  peculiarly  ingenious  arrangement  so 
manufactured  as  to  make  impressionable  people  see 
in  it  a  value  anywhere  from  thirty  to  sixty  dollars 
(largely  depending  upon  which  amount  most  nearly 
represented  the  sum  of  their  substance).  A  meddle- 
some health  official  pulled  one  to  pieces  and  declared 
that  its  contents  were  nothing  but  sulphur,  sand,  and 
charcoal,  and  not  more  than  ten  cents  worth  at  that. 
But,  as  Doctor  Middane  promptly  pointed  out,  it  was 
not  to  be  supposed  that  a  man  of  his  calibre  would 
be  clever  enough  to  detect  the  potent  healing  forces 
which  had  been  imparted  to  the  instrument  by  all  the 
mystic  wizardry  of  the  Far  East.  All  that  this  health 
official  could  possibly  say  did  not  unprint  the  splendid 

107 


108  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

volume  of  testimonials  which  he  was  always  willing, 
even  eager  to  produce. 

But  in  spite  of  that  book  of  testimonials,  and  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  they  had  been  written  by  bankers, 
great  men  of  business,  governors,  and  even  a  senator. 
Doctor  Goodman  still  retained  his  absurd  prejudice. 
"  It  is  a  money-getting  scheme,"  he  insisted  (as  if  he 
did  not  take  money  for  his  own  work).  *'  Let  it  cost 
the  Hfe  of  a  single  child,  who  dies  while  that  inert 
abomination  is  being  relied  upon  in  place  of  honest 
medicine,  and  its  promoter  is  a  murderer.'* 

Harsh  words,  these  sayings  of  Doctor  Goodman; 
and  he  had  still  harsher  for  the  Hermann  tuberculosis 
serum,  the  administration  of  which  was  the  real  busi- 
ness of  New  Hope.  So  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say 
that  its  proprietor  considered  the  doctor  quite  un- 
neighbourly and,  in  fact,  unfriendly. 

It  was  just  such  unfriendly  feelings  that  prompted 
Doctor  Goodman  to  request  Attorney  John  C.  Lang- 
ston  to  call  at  the  New  Hope  sanatorium.  Mr.  Lang- 
ston  was  as  prejudiced  as  Doctor  Goodman,  his  preju- 
dices, indeed,  being  a  second  edition  of  the  doctor's. 
He  was  not  recognized  by  the  attendant  of  New  Hope 
and  was  shown  into  a  waiting-room,  Doctor  Middane 
being  engaged.  It  happened  that  the  door  connecting 
with  the  room  which  served  the  illustrious  doctor  both 
for  consultation  and  sleeping  purposes  was  somewhat 
ajar,  and  Attorney  Langston  was,  therefore  and 
thereby,  grieved  to  learn  that  an  old  friend  of  his, 
Luigi,  the  barber,  in  spite  of  warning  to  the  contrary, 
was  trying  to  arrange  for  the  injection  into  his  person 
of  the  Hermann  serum  for  tuberculosis.  It  seemed 
that  Luigi  had  been  reading  the  advertisements  in  a 
certain  Chicago  newspaper. 


ADVANCE    FEE  109 

Luigi's  surname  was  not  generally  known  in  Latham 
Centre,  most  of  the  citizens  holding  the  opinion  that 
in  addressing  him  as  Looey  Gee  they  gave  him  plenty 
of  names  for  any  dago.  He  had  come  to  Latham 
Centre  a  couple  of  years  before,  induced  perhaps  by  its 
reputation  as  a  place  of  cure  for  troubles  of  the  lungs. 
But  the  particular  property  of  Latham  Centre  that  was 
good  for  the  lungs  Luigi  carefully  shut  away  from 
himself  for  fully  five  months  of  the  year,  and,  being 
afraid  of  night  air,  he  shut  it  away  eight  or  ten 
hours  of  the  daily  cycle  the  whole  year  round.  He 
had  fooled  himself  and  his  compatriots  for  some  time 
with  his  talk  of  "  tossa  nervosa,'*  but  a  nervous  cough 
should  not  last  forever,  and,  at  last,  aided  by  the  ad- 
vertising section  of  his  Chicago  paper,  he  had  reached 
the  place  where  he  desired  the  Hermann  cure  for  con- 
sumption. 

Doctor  Middane  assured  him  that  he  could  cure 
him.  We  have  reliable  evidence  of  this,  for  it  was 
the  first  thing  that  Lawyer  Langston  heard  through 
that  partially  closed  door. 

"But  my  work?"  stipulated  Luigi.  "My  work  I 
cannot  leave/' 

"  Not  at  all  necessary,"  Doctor  Middane  agreed. 
"  You  come  to  New  Hope  once  a  week  for  inspection, 
and  whenever  we  see  the  need  for  it  we  give  you  a  new 
injection." 

"  So  I  keep  on  working?  " 

"  Every  day.     No  need  of  any  interference  at  all." 

"  Grazie,  Signor,  grazie !  "  exclaimed  Luigi.  "  I 
will  then  soon  be  well.  My  business  it  shall  grow  so 
that  I  am  soon  able  to  pay  the  money." 

"  You  pay  before  we  begin,"  said  Doctor  Middane, 
definitely. 


110  THE    CASTLE   OF   CHEER 

**  Signor,  I  cannot." 

"  It  is  the  only  way." 

"  Signor,  it  is  impossible." 

"  Nonsense.  An  Italian  talk  of  impossible!  If  you 
haven't  money,  gtt  it.  We  run  this  place  at  a  tre- 
mendous cost,  and  we  have  to  get  money  and  work 
hard  for  it.  See  this,"  he  picked  a  handful  of 
currency  and  coin  from  a  drawer  in  the  desk.  Lawyer 
Langston  could  hear  the  rustle  of  the  bills  and  the 
clink  of  the  gold.  "  Do  you  think  this  came  without 
effort  ?  Think  and  scheme  and  plan  is  our  way  to  get 
it.  You  must  do  the  same.  Come  with  the  money 
and  you  get  the  treatment." 

"  But,  Signor,  hear  unto  me.  The  so  illustrious 
doctor  will  not  be  hard.  My  woman !  the  bambini !  al- 
ready they  starve  because  customers  come  so  few  to 
Luigi's  shop.  Patienza,  Signor.  Once  the  so  wonder- 
ful medicine  has  cured  Luigi  customers  again  will 
come.  We  pay  soon — oh,  so  soon!  Signor,  for  the 
woman  and  bambini !  "  Luigi 's  appealing  gaze  and 
outstretched  hands  might  have  softened  any  human 
heart. 

"  Won't  do  with  us.  I  don't  know  you.  Never  saw 
you  before,  though  you  say  you  are  in  business  here. 
We  have  our  rules.  Every  one  who  wants  money  very 
bad  can  get  it  some  way.  You  get  the  money,  we 
give  the  treatment." 

"  But,  Signor,  two  hundred  dollar !  It  is  impos- 
sible!" 

"  You  mean  to  say  that  I  charge  more  than  a  cure 
is  worth  ?  " 

"  Scusi,  scusi,  Signor.  It  is  worth  all;  but  to  Luigi 
it  is  impossible !  " 

"  I'm  busy  to-day,  Luigi.     Go  home  and  think  it 


ADVANCE    FEE  111 

over — you  will  find  a  way.    Come  next  week  with  the 
money  and  the  treatment  begins." 

John  Calhoun  Langston  waited  to  hear  no  more. 
What  use  to  attempt  peaceful  argument  with  such  a 
man?  He  would  prefer  to  see  what  legal  processes 
could  do.  When  Doctor  Middane  looked  into  the 
waiting-room,  annoyed  to  find  that  the  door  had  been 
ajar  during  his  conversation  with  this  Luigi,  he  was 
relieved  that  there  had  been  no  one  to  overhear. 


XVII 
LUIGI  FINDS  THE  MONEY 

LUIGI  CALVINI  was  one  of  the  humblest  citizens 
of  Latham  Centre  and  considered  himself  for- 
tunate to  be  a  citizen  in  any  degree.  He  looked 
upon  the  municipal  officials,  who,  until  his  cough  be- 
came so  very  annoying,  had  often  submitted  to  his 
ministrations,  as  a  doorkeeper  may  look  upon  a  poten- 
tate who  wields  the  sceptre.  Yet,  in  very  truth,  Luigi 
was  a  better  citizen  and  a  more  honest  than  most  of 
those  superior  beings,  for  in  the  rush  of  newcomers 
which  changed  Latham  Corners  to  Latham  Centre 
and  made  a  city  of  it  the  little  place  had  fallen  into 
bad  hands,  and,  for  the  present,  grafters  were  in 
power  and  grafting  in  fashion.  Luigi  had  always  been 
honest.  Most  of  the  officials  he  held  in  reverence  held 
their  honesty  as  a  "  once  upon  a  time  "  story.  With 
all  that,  strange  though  it  may  seem,  the  humble,  hon- 
est Luigi  was  a  greater  enemy  to  the  community  than 
some  of  the  elected  grafters. 

Of  late  Luigi's  power  for  harm  had  been  advertised 
by  a  most  annoying  cough,  and  had  therefore  lessened 
with  his  lessening  custom.  Luigi's  honesty  was  of  the 
kind  that  gives  itself  no  peace  if  there  remains  an  un- 
paid bill,  and  will  starve  before  it  contracts  one  that  it 
cannot  expect  to  meet.  But  the  bambini!  Always 
there  is  the  problem  of  the  bambini!  That  makes  it 
different.  And  it  would  be  no  problem  at  all  if  only 
the  illustrious   Signor  Doctor  would  inject  beneath 

113 


LUIGI    FINDS    THE    MONEY  113 

Luigi's  olive  skin  a  few  doses  of  the  so  greatly  ad- 
vertised medicine,  which  newspapers  even  so  far  away 
as  the  tremendous  New  York  assure  all  people  is  ef- 
fective. In  his  mind  there  rise  visions  of  a  well  Luigi; 
of  a  smiling  Luigi,  with  no  cough,  no  need  to  hurry  a 
customer  along  because  warned  by  that  irresistible, 
hot,  confused  tickling  that  a  spell  is  imminent  and 
unavoidable.  And  with  this  picture  of  health  are 
visions  of  returning  customers  in  such  numbers  that 
two,  three,  even  four  chairs  are  added,  and  perhaps  a 
coloured  boy  for  shoes  and  a  young  lady  for  a 
cashier;  who  knows? 

Oh,  this  elusive  Health!  How  foolish  we  were  to 
lose  her.  What  great  things  we  will  do  once  she 
again  condescends  to  smile  upon  us.  How  careful  we 
will  be.  How  joyous  to  have  her  in  our  possession 
once  more.  Nothing  else  will  matter.  There  can  be 
no  cloud  so  gloomy  as  to  sadden  us,  once  she  is  re- 
turned.   Oh,  this  elusive  Health ! 

And  then  Luigi 's  thoughts  came  coldly  back  to  the 
impossible  sum — two  hundred  dollars !  Where  had  he 
seen  so  much  money  in  all  his  Hfe?  But,  yes!  The 
Signor  Doctor  had  so  displayed  it  this  very  day.  Roll 
upon  roll  of  money  bills  had  the  Signor  held  to  his 
gaze,  and  with  contempt  at  that.  The  Signor  was  not 
afraid  to  do  so,  for  all  men  knew  that  Luigi  was 
honest.  It  was  hard-worked  money  had  the  Signor 
said?  But  how  about  the  Luigis  for  whom  money 
would  not  hard-work?  Why  not?  Luigi's  bambini 
should  not  starve.  Why  not  make  the  money  work 
a  little  harder?  Let  it  pay  the  Signor  for  curing 
Luigi.  He  never  would  know.  After,  when  Luigi 
was  well,  certainly  with  interest  it  should  be 
repaid.  -       ,  v     i 


114  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

Why  will  good  men  take  such  thoughts  into  their 
bosoms,  even  for  contemplation?  Is  it  not  always 
"  first  pity,  then  embrace  "  ? 

That  night  the  clouds  lay  heavy  over  Latham  Centre 
and  over  New  Hope.  It  was  a  close  and  sultry  night. 
Flashes  of  lightning,  for  occasional  seconds,  lit  the 
heavy  gloom.  It  was  in  one  of  these  flashes  that  Doc- 
tor Middane,  lying  in  an  alcove  of  his  office,  turned 
restlessly  from  his  sleep  and  saw  the  figure  of  Luigi  in 
the  act  of  committing  a  felony  at  his  desk.  It  was 
unfortunate  for  Luigi  that  Doctor  Middane  always 
kept  a  revolver  by  his  pillow,  for,  almost  as  quick  as 
the  flash  of  lightning,  came  another  flash  which  meant 
a  bullet  in  Luigi's  left  shoulder.  It  was  unfortunate 
for  Doctor  Middane  that  he  also  kept  a  loaded  re- 
volver at  his  desk,  for  the  third  flash,  which  followed 
very  quickly  because  it  was  blind  impulse  on  the  part 
of  Luigi,  signified  that  a  bullet  was  to  penetrate  Doctor 
Middane's  prostrate  form. 

There  were  no  more  flashes  either  from  the  heavens 
or  the  earth.    The  night  was  dark. 

It  was  almost  as  heavy  and  sultry  at  The  Castle  of 
Cheer  as  in  Latham  Centre.  Bissington  Jones  and 
his  friend  Banks  were  up  late,  by  special  license.  The 
young  folks  had  been  having  some  amateur  out-door 
theatricals  and  discipline  was,  for  once,  relaxed.  Cas- 
sius  Banks,  being  a  professional,  was  bound  to  talk 
over  the  minutest  detail  of  the  acting,  and  Bissington 
Jones,  not  being  a  good  sleeper,  was  glad  to  sit  with 
him  on  the  rustic  seat  by  the  ornamental  gates.  At 
the  door  of  the  administration  building  still  stood  the 
machine  of  John  Calhoun  Langston,  who  had  waited 
that  he  might  say  a  few  last  words  of  appreciation  to 
certain  of  the  staff  of  nurses. 


LUIGI    FINDS    THE    MONEY  115 

"  Some  one  is  coming  here  in  an  awful  hurry,'* 
said  Jones. 

"  This  is  no  place  to  come  to  in  a  hurry/'  responded 
Cassius.     *'  The  hurry  is  to  get  away." 

"  If  more  would  hurry  getting  here  they  wouldn't 
have  to  stay  so  long,"  remarked  Bissington. 

"  I'm  not  disputing  it,"  Cassius  acquiesced.  "  But 
why  hurry  away?  It's  a  peaceful  enough  holiday 
when  you  get  settled  down  to  it.  I  never  had  so  easy 
a  time  in  my  life." 

"  All  right  for  you,  Cass,  a  dried  old  single-stick ! 
Mighty  different  when  a  wife  and  three  kiddies  are 
waiting  for  you." 

The  newcomer  interrupted  the  conversation.  In- 
terrupted is  too  mild  a  word ;  he  violently  and  suddenly 
arrested  it  by  rushing  up  and  dropping  at  their  feet 
with  a  gasp. 

"  It  is  I,  Luigi ! "  he  cried,  excitedly,  as  speech  be- 
came possible.  "  It  is  upon  my  hands — the  blood !  I 
have  killed !    I  slay  the  Signor  Doctor !  " 

It  was  a  startling  announcement  to  be  thrown  into 
the  middle  of  a  quiet  conversation  about  home  and 
family.  It  was  a  startling  figure  which  threw  it.  Face 
blanched  from  loss  of  blood,  wild  eyes,  long  hair  in 
disarray,  much  of  his  clothing  saturated  with  the  blood 
which  had  ceased  to  flow  as  the  matted  clothing  com- 
pressed the  wound,  the  arc  light  over  the  gateway 
threw  its  rays  on  a  wild-looking  object.  Fortunate  in- 
deed that,  of  all  the  residents  of  The  Castle,  the  two 
most  cosmopolitan  should  be  there  to  receive  the  shock. 

They  sprang  to  action  at  once.  Jones  laid  the  ex- 
hausted man  on  the  grass  and  supported  his  head 
while  Cassius  ran  for  help.  Down  came  the  machine 
in  a  moment  with  Johnny  and  the  two  sister  nurses. 


116  THE    CASTLE   OF   CHEER 

"It  is  Luigi,  the  barber!'*  exclaimed  Johnny. 
"  What  is  the  cause  of  the  bleeding,  Luigi  ?  Have  you 
had  a  hemorrhage  ?  ''  He  explained  aside  that  the  man 
was  tuberculous. 

"  A  hemorrhage  of  the  bullet,  Signor,"  gasped 
Luigi,  scarcely  able  to  talk.  "  Let  me  tell  it  all  to  you. 
Listen  to  me,  I  implore.  I  go  to  Signor  the  Doctor 
for  his  cure.  He  demand  the  so  great  sum,  two  hun- 
dred dollar.  I  conceive  the  idea — I  will  borrow  it 
from  the  Signor." 

With  excited  gestures  he  told  them  the  story. 
Twice  did  Mary  Standlaws  endeavour  to  quiet  him, 
but  he  was  so  evidently  suffering  an  excitement  which 
would  not  be  relieved  until  the  tale  was  unloaded  that 
she  let  him  continue. 

"  I  can  bear  out  part  of  what  he  says,"  said  Johnny. 
"  I  heard  his  conversation  with  the  brute  and  heard 
the  insistence  upon  the  pound  of  flesh.  *  Get  it  some 
way,*  the  grafter  commanded,  and  Luigi  seems  to 
have  tried." 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  got  her,"  said  Luigi.  "  I  now  can  take 
the  medicine  which  so  wonderful  is  it  will  cure  me. 
But  the  man — he  is  dead !  " 

Their  sympathies  all  went  to  the  prostrate  man. 
But  here  was  a  terrible  situation.  By  his  own  con- 
fession he  had  shot  a  man.  Two  of  the  party  were 
lawyers — all  were  responsible  citizens.  What  was 
their  duty?    Sister  Mary  gave  the  answer. 

"  We  must  put  him  to  bed  and  get  Doctor  Goodman 
to  look  to  his  wound,"  she  said. 

"  Let  us  do  it  quietly,"  suggested  Cassius.  "  Let  us 
not  give  the  poor  fellow  up  to  justice  for  such  a  mis- 
take." 

"  Let  us  not  give  him  up  to  injustice,"  said  Johnny. 


LUIGI    FINDS    THE    MONEY  ll^T 

*'  The  man  most  likely  to  sit  as  his  judge  would  con- 
demn him  for  the  mere  reason  of  his  nationality.  The 
county  attorney  would  persecute  rather  than  prosecute 
him  because  the  other  side  has  money  and  he  none." 

"  There  is  no  need  of  any  one  knowing  but  our- 
selves and  the  doctors,"  argued  Cassius.  "  We  can 
hide  him,  can't  we.  Miss  Mary?" 

"  We  have  no  place  to  hide  any  one,  Mr.  Banks. 
But  why  try?  We  have  room  in  one  of  the  cottages. 
He  is  tuberculous — a  new  case.  We  will  just  put  him 
to  bed.  It  is  often  hard  to  recognize  a  person  in 
bed — they  look  so  very  different." 

"This  man  will  look  different  by  the  time  I  get 
through  with  him,"  said  the  actor,  with  his  mind  on 
his  make-up  box.  "  Let  Doctor  Goodman  dress  his 
wound  and  I  those  long  moustaches." 

And  they  put  him  to  bed;  and  so,  through  the  cour- 
tesy of  Doctor  Middane,  Luigi  really  entered  upon  a 
course  of  effective  treatment  for  tuberculosis. 

And  these  good  people  conspired  against  the  law? 
Everyone  of  them.  There  is  no  word  to  condone  it. 
There  is  no  explanation.  They  conspired  to  defeat  the 
satisfaction  of  the  law,  and  any  lawyer  will  tell  you 
that  their  offence  was  beyond  excuse.  No  excuse  lay 
in  the  fact  that  Latham  Centre's  jail  was  the  dirtiest 
that  ever  disgraced  a  pushing  little  city.  No  excuse 
in  the  fact  that  both  city  attorney  and  county  attorney 
were  creatures  of  graft,  working  for  graft,  and  would 
undoubtedly  follow  the  rule 

When  a  mans  down,  give  him  a  thrust, 
Trample  the  beggar  into  the  dust. 

No  excuse  in  the  fact  that  the  judge  who  would  try 
the  case  had  said  and  also  demonstrated  that  no  alien 


118  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

need  expect  mercy  in  his  court.    No  excuse  anywhere. 
It  stands  without  excuse. 

But  thank  God  it  does  stand.  When  the  sheriff  of 
the  county  searched  the  sanatorium — the  sheriff  who 
had  been  shaved  by  Luigi  many  times  and  oft  before 
the  cough  was  so  very  bad — was  shown  the  new  pa- 
tient quietly  sleeping,  his  clean-shaven  face  looking 
even  more  hollow  than  natural  because  of  the  ar- 
tistically inscribed  shadows  which  Cassius  Banks  had 
so  efficiently  transposed  from  his  make-up  box,  he  tip- 
toed gently  out  and  went  on  his  way. 


XVIII 
THE  LATHAM  WEEKLY  HERALD 

WELL,  how  did  it  all  come  out ?  Was  Doctor 
Middane  killed?  No,  the  good  doctor  was 
not  killed.  Read  the  newspapers.  Read  the 
Latham  Weekly  Herald,  which  gave  a  concise  and 
plain  though  not  voluminous  account  of  the  whole 
transaction.  What  the  Herald^  for  very  good  reasons, 
did  not  give  an  account  of,  was  that  the  new  patient  at 
The  Castle,  who  was  quite  ill  with  tuberculosis,  and 
was  supposed  by  most  of  the  other  patients  to  be  an 
Italian  count  who  spoke  very  little  English,  would 
have  borne  a  striking  resemblance  to  the  missing  Luigi 
had  he  been  decorated  with  masses  of  black  hair  on 
his  head  and  two  long  moustaches  of  the  same  on  his 
face.  Neither  did  it  say  that  some  mysterious  persons 
had  suddenly  become  much  interested  in  the  welfare  of 
Mrs.  Luigi  and  the  bambini,  so  that  they  were  quite 
well  provided  for.  And  it  is  rather  doubtful  if  the 
Herald  would  have  said  these  things  even  had  they 
been  within  the  editor's  knowledge,  for,  strangely 
enough,  the  Herald  had  never  accepted  the  credentials 
of  Doctor  Middane  and  New  Hope  as  perfectly  re- 
liable, and  the  enterprising  doctor  had  never  felt  able 
to  reckon  the  paper  or  its  editor  among  those  friends 
who  were  absolutely  to  be  depended  upon. 

The  Latham  Weekly  Herald  had  been  growing  in 
circulation  and  in  exposition  of  the  truth  for  many 
years.     Its  editor,  who  was  also  its  owner  and  man- 

119 


120  THE    CASTLE    OF   CHEER 

ager,  had  reached  the  enviable  place  where  his  con- 
tributions to  the  magazine  and  book  literature  of  the 
day  were  so  remunerative  that  he  was  quite  independ- 
ent of  any  income  from  his  paper;  consequently  he 
said  what  he  pleased;  consequently  his  circulation  fat- 
tened and  his  paper  throve.  The  more  outrageously 
he  used  his  privilege  of  American  citizenship  to  ex- 
press his  opinion  exactly  as  he  opined  it,  the  more 
eagerly  did  his  fellow-citizens  purchase  his  paper  to 
see  what  he  had  to  say.  Some  of  his  sayings  were 
very  pertinent,  some  were  quite  impertinent,  and  all 
of  them  were  delightfully  frank.  He  received  some 
forcible  protests  but  not  so  many  as  one  might  sup- 
pose. As  one  injured  native  expressed  it:  "What's 
the  use  saying  anything  to  Holmes  about  it  ?  He  don't 
give  a  darn !  " 

When  an  outraged  subscriber  wrote  to  Mr.  Holmes, 
"  Sir,  all  that  I  can  say  about  you  is  that  you  are  an 
ass !  "  he  printed  the  letter  with  full  signature  and 
the  simple  comment :  "  This  is  mighty  good  of  Ike. 
We  wish  we  might  honestly  check  our  opinion  of  him 
at  that  point." 

When  the  Herald  appeared,  on  the  Saturday  follow- 
ing the  adventure  which  resulted  so  disastrously  for 
the  doctor-manager  of  New  Hope,  that  gentleman, 
being  fully  able  to  read,  opened  the  paper  with  great 
interest.  He  found  his  item  on  the  front  page,  headed 
"A  Regrettable  Accident.'' 

"  The  manager  of  the  institution  known  as  New 
Hope  is  confined  to  his  bed  with  a  bullet  wound  in  his 
chest,  which  we  are  glad  to  inform  the  public  is  not 
likely  to  do  great  damage.  We  extend  our  sympathy 
to  the  gentleman  and  hope  there  will  be  no  occasion 
for  further  accidents  of  this  nature." 


THE    LATHAM    WEEKLY   HERALD     121 

That  was  all,  on  the  news  page,  but  the  editor  was 
much  given  to  enjoying  himself  with  second-page  edi- 
torials, and  to  that  page  Doctor  Middane  turned  with 
expectation  that  was  not  disappointed. 

Being  an  editorial  it  started  right  in  without  head- 
ing, "  We  have  been  urged  to  write  something  very 
definite  about  the  recent  affair  which  injured  one  of 
our  most  honest  and  industrious  citizens  and  one 
other  of  whom  we  regret  that  as  much  cannot  be 
recorded."  (What  does  he  mean  by  that?  thought 
Doctor  Middane. )  "  As  we  have  often  said,  one  of 
the  great  advantages  of  a  weekly  is  that  it  gives  one  so 
much  time  that  there  is  no  great  likelihood  of  making 
unguarded  statements.  After  thinking  this  matter 
over  a  couple  of  days,  and  having  reports  from  people 
who  should  know,  as  well  as  from  people  who  could 
not  possibly  know,  we  conclude  that  the  trouble  grew 
out  of  the  doctor's  desire  to  possess  two  hundred  dol- 
lars. We  have  often  been  reminded  that  we  are 
neither  judge  nor  jury,  and  this  we  admit.  But  long 
newspaper  training  has  at  least  taught  us  how  to  use 
facts.  Luigi  applied  to  the  doctor  for  a  cure.  The 
doctor  said  two  hundred  dollars.  Luigi  said  the  sum 
was  impossible.  The  doctor  said  he  could  get  it  if  he 
tried.  Luigi  tried.  The  doctor  woke  up  in  the  midst 
of  his  effort  and  fired.  Luigi  picked  up  the  doctor's 
own  revolver,  which  lay  on  the  desk,  with  a  natural 
impulse  to  check  any  further  artillery  display.  We  do 
not  condemn  the  doctor  for  his  hasty  action  in  dis- 
charging his  revolver.  He  had  no  assurance  that  Luigi 
would  content  himself  with  the  amount  at  issue.  But 
we  understand  that  examination  shows  that  Luigi  took 
exactly  the  stipulated  amount.  We  feel,  therefore, 
that  the  doctor  should  not  censure  a  foreign-born  gen- 


122  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

tleman  for  an  uncomfortably  literal  interpretation  of 
his   instructions." 

Copy  was,  no  doubt,  scarce  in  the  Herald  office,  for 
on  page  four  the  editor  took  another  turn  at  the  same 
subject,  under  the  caption  "  Why  hunt  Luigi?  " 

"  Our  gentlemanly  sheriff  honours  us  with  an  invita- 
tion to  join  a  posse  to  hunt  Luigi — the  humble  citizen 
who  until  very  recently  gave  so  freely  of  his  services 
as  a  barber. 

"  There  are  many  reasons  why  we  object  to  forming 
a  segment  of  such  a  body,  and  to  anticipate  unkind 
criticism  we  will  admit  frankly  that  among  them,  and 
not  the  least,  lies  the  fact  that  our  girth  has  increased 
tremendously  in  the  last  few,  law-abiding  years,  so 
that  as  a  target  we  would  now  be  a  temptation  out 
of  all  proportion  to  our  importance  as  a  member  of 
the  posse.  Willing  though  we  may  be  to  face  all  the 
dangers  connected  with  the  editorial  control  of  a  sheet 
which  seeks  to  give  impartial  decisions  on  matters 
both  public  and  private  in  character,  we  draw  the  line 
at  such  sport  as  is  offered  by  a  sheriff's  posse. 

"  And  then,  why  should  we  hunt  Luigi  ? 

"  We  have  interviewed  several  prominent  citizens  in 
order  that  we  may  give  a  really  representative  opinion. 

"  Young  Lawyer  Langston  says:  '  Don't  hunt  him. 
It  may  be  true  that  he  was  in  the  man's  office  examin- 
ing his  roll;  but  only  a  few  hours  before  that  I  heard 
Luigi  beg  this  man  piteously  to  give  him  his  alleged 
cure  for  tuberculosis.  Yes,  said  the  man,  for  two 
hundred  dollars.  When  Luigi  asserted  that  it  should 
be  paid  when  cured,  the  reply  he  got  was  "  No  pay,  no 
cure,"  and  he  was  told  that  there  were  certainly  ways 
in  which  he,  an  Italian,  could  get  the  coin.  Probably 
Luigi  never  had  such  a  suggestion  made  to  him  before. 


THE  LATHAM  WEEKLY   HERALD     123 

He  was  honest.  But  he  was  also  desperate,  and  after 
thinking  it  over  concluded  to  follow  out  the  doctor's 
suggestion  in  this  logical  way.  And  then  the  man 
went  and  shot  him  for  it.  He  admits  it.  He  also 
admits  that  it  was  with  his  own  extra  revolver  that 
Luigi  stopped  him  from  fulfilling  his  murderous  in- 
tent. Be  content.  Don't  hunt  Luigi — take  the 
doctor.' 

"  Our  venerable  friend,  Doc  Williams,  takes  an  op- 
posing view.  *  Certainly  we  should  hunt  Luigi,'  said 
he.  '  We  owe  it  to  the  poor  man  to  let  him  know  how 
sorry  we  are  that  he  has  been  here  this  long  time  suf- 
fering with  illness  among  all  us  Christian  people  and 
we  never  doing  a  thing  for  him.  We  must  hunt  him 
out  and  bring  him  back  for  treatment.  And,  too,  we 
need  to  let  him  know  that  we  have  begun  to  take  care 
of  his  wife  and  children,  and  will  keep  on  doing  it 
until  he  is  able.' 

"  Doctor  Goodman  also  thinks  we  should  hunt  him. 

'*  *  By  all  means,'  said  the  doctor.  *  A  man  so 
afflicted  should  be  found  in  order  that  he  may  be  in- 
telligently advised  how  to  so  care  for  himself  that  he 
may  live  in  safety  and  with  safety  to  the  community. 
He  should  be  placed  in  an  institution  where  he  can  be 
cured  and  should  be  relieved  of  all  responsibility  while 
this  is  being  done.  This  is  certainly  a  work  which  the 
State  should  shoulder,  but  I  do  not  think  it  should  be 
done  through  a  sheriff's  posse.' 

**  Our  sheriff's  views  are  very  simple.  '  Certainly 
we'd  orter  hunt  him,'  says  he.  'Ain't  he  an  Eye- 
talian?' 

"  Being  impressed  with  the  clarity  of  this  officer's 
opinions  and  feeling  sure  that  their  stability  is  as  un- 
deniable as  their  logic,  we  suggest  to  the  many  Italian 


lU  THE    CASTLE   OF   CHEER 

workers  in  the  oil-fields  who  possess  a  vote,  that  they 
give  very  careful  consideration  to  this  declaration. 

"  Perhaps  our  most  interesting  interview  was  with 
a  certain  baker  of  our  community,  who,  being  a  very 
modest  man,  shall  be  nameless. 

"  '  He  was  a  enemy  to  the  community,  anyway !  * 
said  the  baker,  blowing  his  nose  in  his  customary  man- 
ner and  being  at  some  pains  to  wipe  his  fingers  on 
his  apron  before  resuming  his  kneading.  *  Barbers 
with  lung  trouble  certn'y  didn't  orter  be  allowed  to 
work — not  unless  they're  white  barbers,  anyway. 
They're  blowin'  their  breath  into  your  face  all  the  time. 
No  man  with  lung  trouble  like  that  ought  to  be  allowed 
to  work,  especially  a  dago.  Now  a  baker's  different. 
I  don't  mind  havin'  a  man  with  a  little  cough  around 
my  shop  so  much.  Y'  see  all  the  bread's  baked  in  an 
oven  arter  he  gets  through  with  it,  anyway! '  (Evi- 
dently our  baker  friend  has  not  yet  met  the  man  who 
sees  little  difference  between  consuming  a  mortuary 
and  an  aquarium.) 

"  *  Supposing  the  barber  is  a  white  man  ?  '  we  asked 
him. 

"  *  That's  some  different ! '  he  admitted.  '  A  white 
man's  gotta  make  a  living.  What's  he  going  to  do  if 
you  take  his  trade  away  ? ' 

"  Feeling  that  this  raised  a  question  of  interest  to 
our  readers  we  put  the  matter  up  to  our  esteemed 
friend,  Doc  Goodman. 

"  '  It  is  a  very  serious  and  important  question,'  the 
doctor  agreed.  *  It  involves  one  upon  which  hangs  this 
whole  great  problem  of  stamping  out  the  great  white 
plague.'  (Doc  didn't  really  say  'the  great  white 
plague,'  he  hates  the  term, — ^but  it  slipped  off  our 
newspaper  pen  and  we  intend  to  let  it  stand.)    *  So  far, 


THE  LATHAM  WEEKLY   HERALD     125 

as  people  of  a  great  country,  we  have  just  played  with 
this  matter.  When  we  reach  the  point  of  a  real  recog- 
nition of  its  importance,  the  problem  will  no  longer  be 
one  for  individuals  to  batter  at  as  those  who  "  fight  the 
air  "  but  it  will  be  a  measure  for  state  and  nation. 
There  will  then  be  sufficient  funds  to  take  such  a  man 
from  his  work  and  support  his  dependents  while  he  is 
being  cured,  and  we  shall  soon  get  to  the  place  where 
we  shall  see  results.' 

'*  So  you  see,  old  Doc  Williams  is  right.  We  ought 
to  hunt  Luigi  to  look  after  him.  We  hope  these  re- 
marks will  be  helpful  to  our  readers.  They  have  given 
us  quite  a  helpful  lift  this  week." 


XIX 
ONE  THOUSAND  DOLLARS  REWARD 

A  LITTLE  child,  wandering  from  its  mother's 
side  to  the  platform,  may  steal  the  audience 
from  a  polished  orator.  So  we  turn  from  this 
most  momentous  social  problem  to  resume  the  humble 
love  affairs  of  John  Calhoun  Langston. 

Let  it  not  for  a  moment  be  supposed  that  Johnny 
was  the  person  to  apologetically  surrender  because  the 
lady  whom  he  had  selected  for  the  honour  of  an  inter- 
est in  perpetuity  in  himself,  his  lands,  emoluments, 
talents,  graces,  and  affections  interposed  the  objection 
that  she  was  already  under  contract  to  another. 

Johnny  could  not  exactly  be  classed  as  a  novice  in 
affairs  of  the  heart.  Endowed  by  nature  with  a  heart 
expansion  of  unusual  dimensions  and  a  genial  per- 
sonality, combined  with  attractive  graces  of  presence 
and  speech,  it  could  scarcely  be  expected  that  he  would 
attain  his  years  of  maturity  undisturbed  by  manifesta- 
tions of  tender  interest  in  the  complementary  sex.  But 
we  may  concede  that  there  had  been  no  previous  at- 
tack which  would  have  resisted  even  a  mild  rejec- 
tion. 

In  this  case  Johnny  had  no  thought  of  being  re- 
jected. No  matter  how  many  trifling  experiences,  or 
experiences  of  trifling  a  man  may  have  undergone, 
when  he  reaches  the  really  foreordained  case  he  real- 
izes the  difference — perhaps  the  more  definitely  be- 
cause of  his  experiences.    He  becomes  sober  about  it, 

126 


ONE   THOUSAND   DOLLARS   REWARD     127 

tremendously  earnest,  quite  likely  timorous,  but  none 
the  less  determined  and  dauntless.  He  refuses  to 
consider  any  obstacle  insurmountable,  short  of  death 
or  the  married  state.  Had  Gladys  Standlaws  told  John 
Calhoun  Langston  of  her  pledge  to  the  minister  in  such 
a  tone  of  definite  conviction  as  to  ring  in  his  heart 
that  her  love  had  gone  with  it,  he  would  have  gone 
to  Africa  like  a  gentleman;  but  lacking  this  ring  of 
conviction  he  decided  to  stay  strictly  on  the  field  and 
battle  for  home  and  country. 

Although  the  minister  might  be  considered  as  hav- 
ing won  the  toss  Johnny  was  not  altogether  void  of 
advantages.  For  one  thing  he  was  absolutely  well  and 
strong,  and  for  another  he  was  absolutely  in  love  with 
Gladys  and  with  Gladys  only.  Then,  too,  he  had  a 
fine  automobile,  as  much  time  as  he  could  steal  from 
his  flourishing  practice,  a  knowledge  of  the  surround- 
ing country  which  comprehended  all  of  the  most 
charming  and  most  secluded  exhibitions  of  primitive 
nature,  and  many  friends  and  well-wishers.  Impor- 
tant among  these  was  Doc  Williams,  who  thought  him 
next  only  to  his  Davy,  and  Mrs.  Goodman  who  gave 
him  similar  place — a  high  place  indeed,  for  David  was 
both  son  and  son-in-law.  There  was  another  young 
man  who  would  take  precedence  of  Johnny  in  her 
classification  of  perfect  manhood,  in  a  matter  of  some 
twenty  years,  but  at  this  time  his  speech  was  too  in- 
coherent to  allow  him  to  present  his  claims. 

It  was  to  Mrs.  Goodman  that  Johnny  took  an  appeal 
about  this  time.  It  was  a  beautiful  evening  and  he 
found  the  lady  on  the  porch  of  her  private  apartments 
at  The  Inn,  playing  with  the  baby. 

"  That's  a  remarkably  fine  boy  you  have  there, 
Lady,"  he  addressed  her,  familiarly. 


128  THE    CASTLE    OF   CHEER 

"  I  know  that  very  well,  Johnny  Langston,  and  it  is 
no  new  discovery  on  your  part.  What  do  you  want 
me  to  do  for  you  now  ?  " 

"  What  a  suspicious  Lady  this  baby  has  for  a  mother. 
Let  me  take  him  for  a  while.  See  him  reach  out  his 
hands.  He  wants  to  come  to  Uncle  Johnny  and  go 
way  up ! " 

"  Now,  you  be  careful  with  him,  Johnny.  Doctor 
says  it  is  bad  for  a  baby  to  get  him  all  excited,"  cau- 
tioned the  Lady,  as  she  handed  over  the  precious 
bundle. 

"  I  was  brought  up  that  way  and  it  didn't  hurt  me," 
Johnny  assured  her. 

"  I  suppose  it  would  be  rude  for  me  to  tell  you  what 
I  think  about  that,"  hinted  the  Lady. 

"  No,  you  couldn't  be  rude,  Lady.  I  suppose  you 
think  I  still  show  where  it  addled  my  head." 

"  Well,  you  are  excited  this  very  minute !  " 

**  Who  wouldn't  be  excited,  thinking  of  being  re- 
jected by  the  only  girl  he  ever  loved?  "  It  was  char- 
acteristic of  Johnny  to  blurt  out  his  subject  in  this 
way,  after  all  the  show  of  diplomacy  he  had  made  in 
his  opening. 

"  Which  only  girl  is  this  one,  Johnny  ?  "  Mrs.  Good- 
man laughed  as  she  asked  the  question. 

"  I'm  afraid  you  aren't  going  to  take  this  seriously," 
objected  Johnny,  unwinding  the  baby  from  around  his 
neck.    "I'll  just  lay  this  burden  down  and  go." 

"If  you  want  me  to  take  anything  seriously  you'd 
better  act  as  if  you  were  serious,  instead  of  carrying 
on  your  usual  nonsense,"  suggested  the  Lady. 

So  Johnny  began  at  the  beginning  and  told  her  as 
much  as  he  thought  best. 

**  But,  my  dear  boy,  if  a  girl  tells  you  she  is  already 


ONE   THOUSAND   DOLLARS   REWARD      129 

engaged,  I  don't  see  what  more  you  can  honourably 
do." 

"  Perhaps  not  in  some  cases.  But  I  believe  she  just 
promised  this  man  because  he  asked  her." 

"  And  why  else  should  she  promise  him  ?  " 

"  Now  see  here,  Lady.  You  aren't  playing  fair. 
You  know  there's  a  difference  between  taking  a  man 
just  because  he  asks  and  you  see  no  objection,  and 
taking  him  because  you  really  want  him." 

"  Which  is  what  she  would  do  in  your  case,  I  sup- 
pose? " 

"  Well,  it  wouldn't  be  taking  me  just  because  I  was 
a  preacher,  anyway." 

'*  It  certainly  would  not,  Johnny  Langston." 

"  Well,  you  see  what  I  want  you  to  do,  Lady." 

"Tell  me." 

"  I  want  you  to  get  real  well  acquainted,  and  show 
her  what  a  mistake  it  would  be  for  a  healthy  young  girl 
to  throw  herself  away  on  a  consumptive  preacher." 

"  You  are  off  on  the  wrong  foot,  Johnny.  He  isn't 
in  bad  shape,  at  all.  I  know,  for  Doctor  told  me  just 
the  other  day  that  he  is  getting  well.  A  healthy  young 
girl  is  just  the  person  he  ought  to  marry.  Remember, 
I'm  a  doctor's  wife." 

"  I  guess  I  was  a  brute  to  say  that  about  the  poor 
chap,"  admitted  the  tender-hearted  Johnny.  "  But  let 
him  marry  some  other  healthy  young  girl.  I  want  this 
one  to  be  Mrs.  John  Calhoun  Langston.  She  isn't  just 
pretty;  she's  like  a  dancing  sunbeam;  she's  like  a  wood- 
land fairy;  she's  like  a  soft  summer  breeze  laden  with 
violets;  she's  like  a  peal  of  merry  bells.  She's  just  the 
very  one  for  a  headstrong,  foolish,  cyclonic  person  like 
John  Langston." 

**  Johnny,  you  certainly  have  a  profound  infection. 


130  THE    CASTLE    OF   CHEER 

I  must  really  get  better  acquainted  with  her  if  she  is 
all  those  things.  But,  you  know,  we  can't  steal  her 
from  the  minister  if  he " 

'*  Now,  Lady,  let  me  interrupt  just  a  minute.  Tm 
trying  to  be  square.  Honestly  I  am.  I  would  try  to 
do  the  impossible  and  dam  up  the  Niagara  that  is 
loose  in  me  if  I  thought  she  really  loved  him.  But  I 
don't — I'm  not  even  sure  she's  engaged  to  him.  And 
you  know  there's  lots  of  engagements  that  never  ought 
to  ripen.  Why,  that's  why  people  have  engagements 
— just  to  try  each  other  out  and  see  if  they  are  quite 
sure  about  it.  So  what's  the  good  of  giving  up  just 
because  a  girl's  engaged?  And  you  know  I  believe 
she  said  yes  to  him  because  he's  a  sick  man  and  she 
wanted  to  cheer  him  up.  You  find  out  for  me,  won't 
you,  Lady?" 

And  the  Lady  promised. 

But  when  Johnny  reached  his  office  next  morning 
he  ceased  to  exult  in  the  advantage  he  expected  to  gain 
from  the  aid  of  Mrs.  Goodman,  in  his  excitement  over 
a  new  advantage  which  dropped  into  his  hands  as  a 
gift  from  the  gods.  He  found  it  in  a  very  prosaic  mail- 
box, a  very  prosaic,  legal  envelope  concealing  its  rich 
interest. 

Johnny  was  always  interested  in  opening  his  mail. 
He  was  one  of  those  fortunate  individuals  who  always 
have  some  project  working,  from  which  great  things 
are  to  be  expected,  and  so  any  mail  might  be  of  in- 
terest. But  he  had  no  special  dealings  with  any  official 
in  Cook  County,  Illinois,  and  knew  of  no  reason  why 
the  large  envelope  addressed  in  such  clerkly  style  should 
occasion  any  heart  thrills.  There  was  a  legal  document 
enclosed  which  purported  to  be  a  copy  of  the  will  of 
one  William  Vancil  Doane. 


ONE   THOUSAND  DOLLARS  REWARD     131 

Since  he  had  never  heard  of  the  gentleman,  and  a 
hasty  survey  failed  to  show  any  reference  to  himself 
or  any  of  his  friends,  he  turned  an  interested  mind  to 
the  accompanying  letter,  to  learn  v^hy  this  will  had  been 
sent  to  him.  More  by  chance  than  by  reason,  it  seemed; 
it  had  been  sent  because  tlie  directory  showed  him  to  be 
a  lawyer  in  good  standing.  The  officer  sending  it 
wanted  it  handled  through  a  lawyer.  A  person  writ- 
ing from  Latham  Centre,  a  Mary  Standlaws,  had  asked 
for  a  copy,  and  the  writer  begged  to  remind  Mr.  John 
C.  Langston,  Lawyer,  that  a  reward  of  a  thousand 
dollars  for  the  Mary  Beamish  named  in  the  will  still 
held  good,  and  that  if,  by  reason  of  this  hint,  he  was 
enabled  to  locate  the  lady  and  secure  the  reward,  the 
writer  would  certainly  expect — and  so  on. 

Johnny  Langston  forgot  all  about  the  writer  of  the 
letter  in  two  minutes.  He  was  interested  in  the  will. 
A  few  years  ago  the  attempts  to  find  the  heiress  and 
the  circumstances  of  the  will  had  been  common  news- 
paper property.  Mary  Beamish  and  her  young  sister 
had  both  mysteriously  disappeared.  Who  was  this 
Mary  Beamish?  Why  should  Mary  Standlaws  be 
interested  in  this  will?  What  had  one  to  do  with 
the  other  ?  The  legal  affairs  of  Messrs.  Langston  and 
Langston  were  allowed  to  accumulate  that  morning  so 
far  as  the  junior  partner  was  concerned.  He  sat  at 
his  desk  reading  the  will,  and  he  sent  for  old  files  of 
newspapers  and  clippings  and  spent  much  time  on 
them.  Did  he  think  that  he  might  win  a  reward? 
What  was  the  prize  at  issue — a  thousand  dollars  ? 


XX 

MISS  JOLLEY  OFFERS  FIRST  AID 

GLADYS  might  resolve  as  she  would  to  forget 
that  trip  to  Lewistown,  that  return  journey  by 
the  nice  and  quiet  road,  that  stop  for  the  en- 
gine to  cool  while  the  driver  exhibited  his  beautiful 
scene  and  then  in  so  amazing  a  way  invited  her  to 
possess  it — she  might  resolve  all  she  pleased,  but  the 
picture  was  not  to  be  wiped  from  her  memory  by  any 
amount  of  resolving,  and  most  certainly  would  re- 
solving fail  to  erase  it  so  long  as  she  took  it  out  and 
gave  one  last  look  at  it  every  quiet  moment.  The 
picture  was  holding  its  own  very  well,  thank  you. 

To  go  to  the  stake  and  burn  for  one's  faith  is  easier 
than  to  carry  it  along  day  after  day  when  all  fervour 
has  departed.  To  renounce  all  earthly  affection  is 
easy  in  a  glow  of  enthusiasm  but  how  hard  the  daily 
doing.  Every  day  now  the  sacrifice  Gladys  was  try- 
ing to  make  for  her  sister  seemed  very  real.  To  like 
the  Reverend  Milton  Stroud  was  no  hard  thing,  to 
enjoy  his  company  was  no  task,  but  to  imagine  her- 
self tied  to  him  for  life — always  there  came  the  pic- 
ture of  frank,  ingenuous,  impulsive  Johnny  saying  so 
emphatically,  "  Yes,  but  you  belong  to  me !  " 

A  logical  way  to  erase  this  picture  would  be  to  allow 
the  minister  to  cover  it  with  one  more  attractive.  He 
was  rather  deceiving  himself  with  the  idea  that  the 
canvas  was  one  prepared  for  him  and  that  it  would  be 
his  lot  in  life  to  spread  thereon  some'of  his  best  work. 

132 


MISS    JOLLEY    OFFERS    FIRST    AID     133 

As  he  gained  in  health  and  felt  returning  to  his  body 
the  vigour  of  his  young  manhood,  he  knew  more  and 
more  positively  that  he  was  very  much  in  love.  But 
he  still  had  occasional  moments  when  he  was  not  quite 
clear  with  whom.  After  all  there  was  nothing  more 
than  an  understanding  with  either  sister.  No  definite 
vows  had  been  made.  What  Stroud  had  said  had  been 
largely  by  communication  with  the  older  sister,  and 
what  Gladys  admitted  had  travelled  by  the  same  route. 
Yet  Stroud  felt  that  he  had  said  enough  to  bind  him- 
self, and  was  content  to  have  it  so. 

Mr.  Stroud  could  talk  with  patients  at  almost  any 
hour  of  the  day  but  there  was  but  one  hour  in  the  after- 
noon when  he  could  talk  with  nurses.  And  even  at 
that  hour  if  he  wanted  to  walk  and  talk  with  the  nurse 
it  must  be  done  stealthily  to  escape  observation.  So 
the  Reverend  Milton  Stroud  at  a  definite  hour,  was 
waiting  anxiously  near  a  favourite  road  which  was 
often  traversed  in  her  exercise  hour  by  the  nurse  whom 
he  particularly  desired  to  see. 

Mr.  Stroud  did  not  suppose  for  a  moment  that 
other  persons  might  be  interested  in  his  walks  abroad, 
might  be  able  to  guess  at  his  plans  and  even  be  so  much 
concerned  as  to  try  in  a  friendly  way  to  further  his 
purposes.  It  was  with  some  surprise  and  a  trifle  of 
annoyance  that  he  came  upon  good-hearted  Miss  Jol- 
ley,  too  directly  in  his  way  to  be  avoided. 

"  Good-morning,  Reverend,"  she  greeted  him,  her 
intent  plainly  being  to  combine  friendship  with  re- 
spect, "  you  are  jumping  along  in  fine  shape.  You 
look  like  a  new  man,  already.  How's  the  new  patient, 
the  Italian  count  ?    Do  you  know  ?  " 

"  I  hear  that  he  is  improving,  Miss  Jolley.  I  have 
not  seen  him." 


1S4  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

"  Nor  I.  And  Fm  just  dying  for  a  good  square 
look  at  a  real  count.  He  has  money  by  the  bushel,  I 
hear.    I  hope  Doctor  charges  him  good." 

"  I  don't  know  as  to  that.  I  have  seen  counts  in 
Chicago  who  were  quite  poor." 

"  Dear  old  Chicago !  "  exclaimed  Miss  Jolley.  "  It 
has  everything,  don't  it?    I'm  just  dying  to  go  back." 

**  Are  you  a  native  of  Chicago,  Miss  Jolley?" 

'*  Only  by  adoption.  I  was  born  and  raised  in  the 
country  and  folks  laugh  at  me  for  loving  Chicago. 
It's  done  everything  for  me  but  marry  me  off,  and  I 
guess  no  city  couldn't  do  that.  When  I  get  back  there 
ril  pretty  near  die  for  this  place;  but  while  Fm  here 
I  think  no  place  is  like  the  city.    You  that  way?  " 

"  Quite  the  contrary.  The  longer  I  stay  here  the 
better  I  like  it." 

"Yes  indeed;  or  the  better  you  like  he,  she,  it,  or 
her.  There's  other  things  beautiful  besides  scenery  in 
this  neighbourhood,  Reverend  Stroud," 

Stroud  looked  into  her  friendly,  rollicking  eyes  and 
laughed  aloud. 

*'  Your  allusions  are  quite  beyond  my  understand- 
ing," he  objected  feebly. 

"  That's  just  where  they  was  aimed  at.  Reverend. 
This  is  a  thing  that  understanding  don't  have  any- 
thing to  do  with,  and  that  much  I  know — old  maid  or 
no  old  maid.  All  the  right  I  got  in  this  game  is  to  say 
if  ever  you  want  a  chaperon  or  somebody  to  carry  a 
note  or  any  help  of  any  kind — why,  don't  forget  that 
I  saved  your  life  once  and  I'm  ready  to  do  it  again. 
Honest  I  am !  " 

Living  near  to  nature  is  destructive  to  the  dignity 
of  man.  A  few  months  ago  the  Reverend  Milton 
Stroud,  addressed  in  this  manner,  would  have  turned 


MISS    JOLLEY    OFFERS    FIRST    AID     135 

the  familiar  person  into  an  icy  pillar  and  her  familiari- 
ties to  pendent  icicles.  Now,  after  one  flash  of  morti- 
fication that  his  plans  should  be  so  obvious,  he  had  the 
good  nature  to  humour  the  lady's  offered  patronage. 

"  I  don't  forget  how  you  rescued  me,"  he  admitted. 
"  I  believe  I  need  no  assistance  just  at  present,  thank 
you." 

"  I'm  your  friend  when  you  do,  Reverend  Stroud. 
They're  both  angels.  Miss  Mary,  I  reckon  she's  way 
out  of  reach  of  mortal  man — any  man;  but  the  other 
one,  she'll  do.  She's  as  sweet  as  a  fairy.  I'm  a-goin'  to 
get  my  letter  put  in  your  church  soon  as  I  get  home. 
Reverend  Stroud,  just  so  I'll  get  to  see  whichever  one 
it  is." 

But  the  Reverend  Mr.  Stroud  had  not  waited  for  all 
of  this  speech.  He  had  caught  sight  of  a  figure  in 
white  coming  down  the  dusty  road,  and  he  was  but  just 
in  time  to  break  opportunely  through  a  gap  in  the 
hedge  and  express  his  gratified  amazement  that  his 
arrival  should  have  occurred  in  such  strange  coinci- 
dence with  that  of  Miss  Gladys. 

Miss  Jolley  paced  away  through  the  fields  uncon- 
cerned by  his  abrupt  departure.  Her  mission  having 
been  to  direct  Mr.  Stroud's  attention  to  the  fact  that 
while  Gladys  might  be  a  fairy,  her  sister  was  an  angel, 
and  further  to  secure  an  interest  in  their  future  by 
offering  her  assistance,  she  felt  that  her  work  was 
done.  Miss  Jolley  was  perfectly  positive  that  the  best 
message  Miss  Gladys  could  have  for  the  minister  was 
one  of  total  extinction. 


XXI 
JOHNNY  LANGSTON  INTERRUPTS 

GLADYS  had  not  come  strolling  along  the  road 
in  order  to  meet  the  Reverend  Milton  Stroud. 
She  had  taken  to  solitary  walking  lately  for 
the  benefit  of  her  health — aforesaid  health  seeming  to 
demand  that  she  should  have  much  opportunity  for 
solitary  musings  and  the  recalling  of  certain  mental  pic- 
tures in  v^hich  Mr.  Stroud  did  not  largely  figure. 

"  I  suppose  I  ought  to  hope  this  is  an  accident,"  she 
said.  "  But  you  really  must  not  make  many  such.  It 
will  make  trouble.  You  know,  whatever  sentiments 
people  living  at  this  sanatorium  may  entertain  they 
must  suppress.    It's  quite  against  the  rules." 

"  But,  my  dear  Miss  Gladys,"  pleaded  the  young 
man.  "  Surely  not  all  of  the  time.  Such  suppression 
is  entirely  out  of  keeping  with  your  character,  as  I 
conceive  it,  and  may  I  venture  to  say  that  it  is  also 
out  of  keeping  with  mine." 

"  You  are  a  minister,"  she  said,  with  mischief. 
"  You  don't  know  anything  about  my  character.  Don't 
you  know  that  ministers  hardly  ever  know  about  the 
character  of  people — folks  are  always  on  their  good 
behaviour  for  them." 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  take  you  on  either  good  or  bad 
behaviour,"  said  the  minister.  "  I'll  take  your  char- 
acter on  trust  and  you  can  easily  learn  mine." 

"  No,   I  can't.     Very  few  people  know  anything 

136 


JOHNNY   LANGSTON    INTERRUPTS     13T 

about  a  minister's  character;  it  is  so  hidden  by  his 
reputation." 

The  minister  elevated  his  eyebrows  in  mock  sur- 
prise. 

"  Such  wisdom  in  one  so  young  is  remarkable,"  he 
said.  "  Say  some  more,  please.  ^  I  like  to  have  you 
say  those  bright,  mischievous  things  to  me.  It  is  more 
like  you  as  I  believe  in  you.  It  is  unnatural  for  you 
to  be  so  repressed  and  conservative." 

"  I  am  afraid  it  is  becoming  natural  for  me  to  be 
repressed." 

"  With  me,  you  mean.  I  have  wondered  at  that,  too. 
You  are  not  afraid  of  me?  " 

"  I  am  when  you  are  a  minister.  Not  at  all  when 
you  are  a  guilty  boy  stealing  through  the  hedge  at 
exactly  the  right  moment,  just  by  accident." 

He  laughed  cheerfully. 

"  The  accident  wasn't  intended  for  you,"  he  de- 
clared. "  For  you  I  am  glad  to  make  clear  the  design. 
Why  should  I  conceal  from  you  my  desire  to  steal  a 
few  moments  of  your  company?  Sometimes  I  won- 
der at  this  peculiar  situation.  Where  do  we  stand? 
What  am  I  to  you?  What  are  you  to  me?  I  am 
anxious  that  we  shall  have  an  understanding." 

"  If  that  is  all;  if  it  is  just  a  matter  of  clearing  up  a 
mystery  and  giving  ease  to  a  logical  mind,  there  should 
be  no  trouble.  Let  us  suppose  that  we  are  patient  and 
nurse;  that  we " 

"  But  that  isn't  it  at  all.  I  thought  I  had  made  it 
clear  that  I  must  take  a  wife  back  to  my  work." 

"  Perhaps  too  clear.  It  sounds  just  like  a  first-class 
offer  of  a  good  position  on  the  staff  of  a  city  hos- 
pital." 

"  Did  it  seem  like  that  to  you  ?  "  asked  the  young 


138  THE    CASTLE    OF   CHEER 

minister,  always  honest,  and  now  facing  the  truth 
all  the  more  insistently  because  it  was  unpleasant. 
"  Perhaps  you're  right.  I  haven't  said  things  right  at 
all.     And  yet  when  I  talked  to  Mary " 

''  When  you  talked  to  Mary  it  seemed  that  whatever 
she  suggested  was  exactly  the  thing,"  interrupted 
Gladys,  with  a  little  snap  which  clearly  showed  the  dif- 
ference between  a  fairy  and  an  angel. 

"  Perhaps  that  was  it,"  admitted  Stroud.  It  was  true 
that  Mary's  ideas  were  always  exactly  the  thing.  After 
all,  were  angels  always  unattainable  ?  Who  might  bet- 
ter aspire  to  one  than  a  minister?  But  there,  he  was 
committed  to  this  young  fairy;  perish  disloyal 
thoughts ! 

"  Let  me  try  again,"  he  began,  bravely.  "  Let  me 
begin  all  anew.     Let  me  tell  you " 

Honk!    Honk!    Honk! 

The  hand  which  had  almost  prisoned  that  of  Gladys 
dropped  quickly  to  its  owner's  side.  It  will  never  be 
known  how  prettily  the  Reverend  Milton  Stroud,  for 
all  his  inexperience,  might  have  accomplished  a  real 
love  scene. 

Some  one  else  had  watched  for  this  hour  of  rest — 
some  one  who  had  lingered  a  few  moments  in  com- 
ing, confident  that  his  methods  of  rapid  transit  would 
readily  overcome  any  delay. 

The  big,  grey  automobile  drew  up  to  the  side  of  the 
road  and  Johnny's  smiling  face  looked  at  them  with- 
out the  least  embarrassment — on  his  part,  anyway. 

"  Miss  Gladys,  this  is  most  fortunate,"  he  declared. 
"  I  have  some  news  of  such  great  importance  to  you 
and  yours  that  I  feel  sure  no  delay  is  permissible. 
You  will  pardon  the  interruption,  I  am  sure,  Mr. 
Stroud," 


JOHNNY   LANGSTON    INTERRUPTS     1S9 

His  concluding  words  were  spoken  standing  in  the 
dusty  road  with  the  fore-door  of  the  big  car  held  open 
in  a  way  that  invited  the  young  lady  very  particularly 
to  a  seat  next  to  the  driver.  Although  the  invitation 
did  not  seem  to  include  the  gentleman,  it  was  all  done 
in  such  smiling  harmony  that  it  did  not  seem  dis- 
courteous. 

The  nurse  entered  the  car  and  the  minister  turned 
his  thoughts  from  fairies,  to  dwell  upon  angels. 

"  You  will  forgive  my  insistence,  I  hope,'*  said 
the  chauffeur,  as  he  threw  the  gear  into  high 
speed. 

"  For  this  news  that  is  so  important  to  me  and  mine 
I  suppose  I  must.     What  is  it,  please?" 

"  I  hope  it  is  good  news,  Gladys.  I  have  been  think- 
ing about  you  every  minute.  Love  is  a  sacred  word 
and  not  to  be  spoken  lightly,  but  I  love  you  more 
than  my  lips  can  speak,  almost  more  than  my  heart 
can  bear.  If  I  win  your  love  every  other  prize  in  life 
may  be  stricken  out  and  I  shall  not  even  notice  their 
absence.    If  I  can  give  you " 

"  Mr.  Langston,"  the  voice  was  arctic  in  its  rigour, 
"  you  were  to  tell  me  some  news  very  important  to  me 
and  mine.  This  little  speech  which  you  seem  to  have 
memorized  does  not  interest  me.  I  hope  you  do  not 
think  that  I  came  with  you  for  this." 

"  But  this  is  important  both  to  you  and  to  yours.  It 
is  not  news.  No;  I  don't  want  it  to  be  news  to  you.  It 
couldn't  be  news  to  you.  I  fear  that  it  can  scarcely 
be  news  to  any  one  for  very  long,  for  it  is  burst- 
ing from  me  at  every  pore.  Can  the  bird  who  has 
found  his  mate  repress  his  song?  Tell  me  how  and 
I  will " 

"  Mr.  Langston,  this  is  unwarranted.     You  rudely 


140  THE    CASTLE    OF   CHEER 

interrupt  my  conversation  with  a  friend  and  carry  me 
away  on  pretence  of  important  news,  that  I  may  Hsten 
only  to  this!'' 

"  I  make  no  apologies,  Gladys.  All  is  fair  in  the 
warfare  of  love,  and  though  I  made  a  mistake  at  my 
first  opportunity,  in  failing  to  be  absolutely  direct  in 
my  statements,  I  shall  never  make  it  again.  A  love 
like  mine  has  no  excuse  to  offer  for  any  measure  that 
wins.  It  is  the  kind  that  has  made  men  ride  by  night 
through  perilous  scenes  to  bear  the  lady  away  in  spite 
of  everything.  It  would  make  me  feel  much  better  if 
Mr.  Stroud  were  a  knight  in  chain  armour  who  would 
cross  my  path  in  battle  to  the  death." 

There  was  no  resisting  Johnny  and  his  nonsense, 
even  when  it  was  hard  to  detect  what  percentage  of 
serious  earnestness  tinctured  the  mixture.  A  slow 
smile  broke  the  serious  lines  of  the  girl's  face  and  she 
laughed  a  little,  embarrassed  laugh. 

''  You  are  too  ridiculous !  "  she  declared. 

"  Say  it  not,  fair  lady.  I  am  in  deadly  earnest. 
This  is  a  serious  matter  for  me.  It  is  important  to  you 
too,  and  I  want  you  to  admit  it." 

"  Supposing  I  don't  think  so  ?  " 

"  I  have  passed  the  stage  of  supposing,  Gladys. 
Look  me  in  the  eye  and  dare  to  tell  me  that  you  have 
had  no  thoughts  like  mine." 

"  I  am  afraid  that  looking  you  in  the  eye  would 
disturb  your  driving." 

"  It  would.  You  are  quite  right.  It  would  upset 
my  driving  completely.  But  I'll  stop  the  car.  Now, 
young  lady,  I  have  some  news  to  tell  that  will  be  real 
news  to  you,  but  first  of  all  you  must  admit  that  noth- 
ing can  be  more  important  than  what  I  have  already 
told  you." 


WM% 


Although   the  invitation  did  not  seem   to  include   the  gentle- 
man, it  was  all  done  in  such  smiling  harmony  that 
it  did  not  seem  discourteous. 


JOHNNY   LANGSTON    INTERRUPTS     141 

**  Mr.  Langston,  I  wouldn't  joke  about  such  a  deli- 
cate subject." 

"  Gladys,  I  was  never  more  serious  in  my  life.  Can 
anything  be  more  important  than  the  fact  that  I  want 
you  to  be  my  wife?" 

The  delicate  complexion  filled  with  a  quick  rush  of 
colour.  The  eyes  that  had  looked  bravely  into  his 
dropped  in  confusion.  If  there  was  raillery  in  Johnny's 
tone  there  was  no  response  in  hers. 

"  It  is  too  important  to  speak  of,  Mr.  Langston. 
Please  listen  while  I  say  that  I  must  not  hear  you." 

**  Gladys,  let  me  tell  you  my  news.  I  think  it  may 
change  things  for  all  of  us.  I  hope  it  won't  put  you 
where  you  will  be  so  great  a  person  that  you  will  for- 
get me.  Is  your  sister  in  any  way  entitled  to  the  name 
of  Beamish?" 

A  blush  of  embarrassment  swept  Gladys'  face. 
"  What  have  you  heard,  Mr.  Langston  ?  "  she  cried. 

"  It  is  true  then  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Quite  true.  But  we  are  not  ashamed  of  it.  We 
simply  took  our  mother's  name  of  Standlaws  as  a  mat- 
ter of  convenience  in  our  changed  station  in  life.  I  am 
Gladys  Beamish  and  Mary  is  Mary  Beamish." 

"  There  is  more  to  it  than  you  think,  for  you  are 
evidently  ignorant  of  the  Doane  will.  Your  sister 
inherits  millions,  under  one  condition." 

"  You  aren't  joking,  I'm  sure,  Mr.  Langston." 

"  No.    I  am  not  joking.     I  have  seen  the  will." 

"  You  say  the  Doane  will.  Doane  was  my  father's 
partner.  He  must  have  repented  of  cheating  us,  and 
left  money  in  his  will  to  make  up  for  it.  What  is  the 
condition  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  peculiar  one.  It  seems  this  man  Doane  has 
a  son.    None  of  the  property  goes  to  him  directly,  but 


14S  THE    CASTLE   OF    CHEER 

it  is  all  left  to  your  sister  on  condition  that  she  marry 
this  young  man  within  three  years." 

'^And  if  she  will  not?" 

"  It  reverts  to  a  board  of  trustees  for  certain  pur- 
poses which  they  hold  secret." 

"  Then  that  is  where  it  will  go,  for  Mary  will  never 
marry  Henry  Doane." 

"Is  he  so  objectionable?" 

"  Some  might  not  think  so.  I  have  not  seen  him  for 
over  six  years. '  He  was  at  one  time  engaged  to  Mary 
and  we  liked  him  well  enough  then,  but  she  found 
something  about  him  which  caused  her  to  break  the 
engagement." 

''  She  has  not  told  you  of  the  will." 

"  I  do  not  even  know  that  she  knows  of  it." 

Lawyer  Johnny  did  not  enlighten  her.  Instead  he 
asked  another  question. 

"  You  feel  quite  sure  that  she  will  not  care  to  meet 
the  conditions  ?  " 

"  Quite  sure.  Mary  will  never  marry  any  man. 
She  has  vowed  to  give  her  life  to  her  work." 

"  And  is  that  why  she  refused  Mr.  Stroud  ?  " 

"Who  told  you  that  she  did?" 

"  I  know  some  things  without  being  told — things 
that  mean  life  and  death  to  me,  like  this.  Mary  felt 
that  she  couldn't  have  him,  so  you  should.  But  that's 
all  a  mistake.  Mary's  the  girl  he  wants.  I  feel  it  in 
every  atom  of  my  intelligence.  And  he  shall  have  her. 
Let  the  millions  go.  Mary  is  just  the  wife  for  a  min- 
ister and  you  are  just  the  wrfe  for  John  Calhoun  Lang- 
ston.    Happy  day !  " 

But  it  was  many  degrees  short  of  "  happy  day." 


XXII 
DOCTOR  MIDDANE  VISITS  THE  CASTLE 

SOMETIMES  a  patient's  recovery  is  retarded  by 
his  anxiety  to  get  well,  sometimes  by  the  ampli- 
tude of  his  accident  insurance,  and  sometimes 
by  reasons  of  his  own.  Doctor  Middane  was  not  very 
quick  in  recovering  from  his  wound.  His  assistant 
guessed  that  he  found  a  sheltered  convalescence  so 
agreeable  compared  with  the  strenuous  outside  living 
stirred  up  by  the  criticism  of  the  Latham  Weekly 
Herald,  that  he  was  not  anxious  to  abbreviate  it  by 
too  speedy  a  recovery. 

And  so  it  happened  "  the  count ''  was  making  some 
very  real  and  some  very  satisfactory  progress  before 
Doctor  Middane,  getting  outdoors  for  his  first  walk, 
decided  to  make  a  visit  to  The  Castle.  It  is  just  as  well 
to  say  that  the  doctor  had  no  thought  of  unearthing 
Luigi.  His  institution  had  suffered  in  his  illness  and 
he  desired  to  cast  his  eyes  around  The  Castle  of  Cheer 
and  see  wherein  he  might  profit.'  What  special  at- 
traction did  The  Castle  hold  that  its  capacity  was  con- 
stantly threatened  ?  Might  there  not  be  persons  there 
almost  ready  to  try  something  else,  with  whom  he 
could  have  a  quiet  word  ?  The  Hermann  cure  was  well 
advertised;  the  very  fact  that  its  agent  had  visited  their 
sanatorium  would  set  some  thought  in  train  in  the 
minds  of  the  discouraged  ones.  When  you  are  sponsor 
for  a  thing  the  success  of  which  demands  constant  pub- 
licity it  is  not  well  to  emulate  the  shrinking  violet. 

143 


144  THE    CASTLE   OF    CHEER 

Since  none  of  these  ideas  were  really  friendly  to  the 
institution  the  doctor  took  pains  to  announce  that  his 
mission  was  to  tell  of  the  continued  wonderful  success 
of  the  Hermann  cure,  and  to  offer  to  take  some  ad- 
vanced cases  for  demonstration  if  desired. 

He  was  not  received  with  undue  cordiality  by  the 
nurses,  but  Doc  Williams  gave  him  the  greeting  which 
he  had  for  every  visitor. 

"  We're  glad  to  see  ye.  Doctor,'*  he  assured  him. 
"  Glad  to  have  ye  pay  us  a  visit.  They's  some  folks 
here  ye  shore  must  be  interested  in,  ye  understan'  me. 
How  'bout  them  patients  as  he  sent  on  to  us,  Miss 
Alice?    All  on  'em  doin'  well?" 

"  Mr.  Nein  is  not  doing  well,  nor  Mrs.  Swenk.  Mrs. 
Smith  is  much  better  since  Doctor  Goodman  gave  her 
the  last  gas  inflation,  and  Mr.  Helm  is  better  to-day. 
All  the  others  are  doing  well,  too." 

If  the  audience  supposed  that  Doctor  Middane  would 
be  either  embarrassed  or  contrite  at  hearing  of  these 
unfortunates,  whose  treatment  he  had  bestowed  upon 
The  Castle  by  the  simple  process  of  telling  them  that 
they  could  not  come  to  New  Hope  without  money,  they 
were  mistaken. 

"  I  am  glad  most  of  them  are  doing  so  well,"  he 
said,  blandly.  "  I  felt  sure  they  were  subjects  of  mal- 
nutrition rather  than  tuberculosis,  and  that  this  was 
the  place  for  them.  They  needed  more  home  care 
than  my  place  could  give  them.  I  am  glad  indeed  that 
you  are  so  well  able  to  take  care  of  them." 

"  Perhaps  yo're  right,"  the  old  doctor  agreed, 
thoughtfully.  "  We  been  settled  lots  longer  'n  you  an' 
I  suppose  we  are  better  able  to  take  'em.  But  when  we 
are  chuck  full  we  can't  take  no  more,  so  mebbe  ye'd 
better  keep  one  onc't  in  a  while." 


DOCTOR    MIDDANE    VISITS    CASTLE     145 

**  I  want  to  tell  you  how  very  successful  the  use  of 
the  Hermann  serum  is  proving/'  Doctor  Middane  said, 
by  way  of  changing  the  subject.  "  I  wonder  if  you 
would  object  to  having  it  announced  to  your  people?  " 

"  Our  people's  putty  well  satisfied  with  what  they're 
gettin',"  objected  the  old  doctor. 

"  The  particular  thing  I  wanted  to  announce  was 
that  worthy  cases  without  means  will  be  treated  free 
of  all  charge,  when  they  bring  proper  certificates  as 
to  their  condition  and  their  poverty,  from  the  recog- 
nized authorities." 

"  Mebbe  ye'd  like  to  have  Mr.  Nein  and  Mrs.  Swenk 
come  back  down  to  your  place,"  suggested  the  doctor. 
"  We  can  give  'em  c'tifkits  of  condition  an'  I  don't 
reckon  they  ain't  no  doubt  'bout  their  poverty,  ye 
understan'  me." 

"  You  misunderstand  me,  my  dear  doctor,"  said  the 
smooth  Doctor  Middane.  "  We  desire  undoubted 
tubercular  cases  which  will  be  living  demonstrations 
of  the  value  of  our  treatment.  I  hope  it  will  not  be 
too  much  to  ask  that  you  do  us  the  justice  of  letting 
our  position  be  known,  and  I  assure  you  we  shall  be 
glad  to  come  to  your  institution  at  such  times  as  seem 
best,  and  give  our  treatment  to  worthy  selected 
cases." 

"  We'll  let  ye  know  when  we're  ready,  ye  under- 
stan' me,"  said  the  innocent  old  doctor. 

"Thank  you,  indeed!"  Doctor  Middane  chose  to 
ignore  any  significance  which  he  may  have  detected 
in  the  old  doctor's  tone.  "  I  am  quite  anxious  to  know 
how  you  get  such  splendid  success  in  increasing  the 
weight  of  your  cases.    May  I  see  your  diet  lists?  " 

*'  That  ain't  exac'ly  my  line,  Doctor.  I  reckon  I 
better  let  ye  talk  to  the  real  manager  of  this  institoo- 


146  THE    CASTLE   OF   CHEER 

tion,  our  head  nurse.  Miss  Alice,  will  ye  be  so  help- 
ful as  to  send  word  for  Miss  Mary  to  come?  " 

Mr.  Stroud  had  been  a  listener  to  the  conversation 
with  Doctor  Middane,  but  he  did  not  stay  to  make  his 
further  acquaintance. 

"  You  don't  seem  to  believe  very  strongly  in  the 
virtue  of  the  great  discovery  which  this  man  is  ex- 
ploiting ? "  he  observed  to  the  old  doctor,  as  they 
walked  off  together. 

"  I  don't,"  said  the  doctor. 

"  Perhaps  you  are  prejudiced,"  suggested  Mr. 
Stroud,  jokingly. 

"  I  reckon  I  am,"  the  old  man  agreed.  "  I  reckon 
ril  alius  be  prejudiced  'gainst  a  body  'at  claims  they've 
a  mighty  discovery  f 'm  God  A'mighty,  an'  yet  tries  to 
shut  it  off  f'm  ever'buddy  but  folks  with  money.  I 
don't  purtend  to  know  much  'bout  the  science  of  it.  I 
leaves  that  to  Dave.  He  knows,  an'  he  says  they  ain't 
nothin'  to  their  cure  from  the  stan'point  o'  science.  But 
this  much  I  do  know,  ye  understan'  me.  When  that 
great  an'  mighty  cure  is  revealed  to  man,  He  ain't  goin' 
to  let  it  come  through  no  money-grubber  as'll  want 
to  put  a  patent  on  it,  ye  understan'  me.  It'll  come 
through  some  man  like  this  Pasteur  as  Davy  tells 
about,  big  enough  to  give  all  he  knows  to  all  the 
world." 

"  But  I  don't  understand  that  Pasteur  gave  his  serv- 
ices always  without  remuneration,  and  as  I  recall  the 
doctors  whom  I  have  met,  I  don't  know  many  who 
follow  out  your  plan  of  taking  no  pay  excepting  what 
the  patient  volunteers." 

Mr.  Stroud  made  these  remarks  in  a  spirit  of  pleas- 
ant raillery,  but  the  doctor  showed  as  much  evidence 
of  being  vexed  as  he  usually  exhibited. 


DOCTOR    MIDDANE    VISITS    CASTLE     147 

"  Ye  don't  understan'  a  bit,  son, — mighty  few  of  ye 
seem  to  understan'.  Most  all  doctors  gives  their  serv- 
ices in  a  way,  but  o'  course  each  one  does  it  arter  his 
own  way.  They  has  to  have  money  for  their  offices, 
an'  their  help,  an'  their  f  amblies,  an'  their  automobiles, 
and  so  on.  Mebbe  they'll  ask  ye  five  dollars  for  put- 
tin'  some  stuff  in  yore  arm,  an'  ye  think  it  comes  putty 
high,  but  these  things  all  costs  money,  an'  somebody's 
got  to  pay  'em.  An'  they  ain't  a  one  of  'em  but  '11 
do  it  for  nothin'  if  yo're  a  poor  chap  an'  can't  pay,  ye 
understan'  me.  An'  they  ain't  a  real  doctor,  any- 
wheres, that'll  take  a  thing  as  ought  to  be  like  a  gift 
f 'm  God,  an'  say,  *  I'm  a-goin'  to  keep  this  yere  thing 
hid  up  all  to  myself,  an'  nobody  can't  use  it  to  cure  a 
poor,  sick  body,  less'n  he  pays  me  a  royalty  on  it.'  An* 
it  ain't  no  use  for  anybody  to  expec'  me  to  believe 
that  the  great,  wise,  loving  God  would  trust  one  of  His 
mighty  secrets  to  any  feller  as'd  do  no  such  a  thing. 
No,  sir!" 

"  So  this  man  is  a  fraud  of  the  worst  kind  ?  " 

"  I  wouldn't  go  so  far  as  to  say  it.  He  ain't  noth- 
ing but  the  agent  for  this  stuff;  mebbe  he  really  believes 
in  it;  mebbe  he  thinks  he'll  do  some  good.  But  he 
needn't  expec'  to  try  no  such  thing  at  our  place,  ye 
understan'  me." 

The  old  doctor  turned  back  to  the  office,  which  he 
had  just  seen  Mary  enter,  his  genial  face  depicting  a 
rather  unusual  indignation. 


XXIII 

'*  YOU  ARE  THE  GREAT  DOCTOR  MID- 
DANE  !'* 

AS  Doctor  Middane  waited  in  the  administration 
A\  building  of  The  Castle,  and  as  sister  Mary 
•^  -^  tripped  hastily  across  from  the  far  cottage  to 
see  what  was  wanted,  there  was  no  thought  in  either 
mind  beyond  a  mild  interest.  Six  years  had  made 
great  changes  in  character  both  in  Mary  and  Doctor 
Middane.  Just  as  surely  as  the  one  who  had  chosen 
the  straight  and  narrow  way  had  developed  nobility  of 
purpose  and  sweetness  of  character,  so  the  one  who 
had  followed  the  easy  path  had  acquired  the  shifting 
viewpoint,  blunted  perceptions,  and  pernicious  appe- 
tites of  its  travellers.  And  these  changes  had  pro- 
duced their  effects,  as  they  always  will,  in  delineation 
of  character  in  feature  and  in  form. 

But  there  was  no  change  that  would  deceive,  for  one 
instant  of  time,  people  who  had  known  each  other  in 
the  relations  which  six  years  ago  had  bound  Mary 
Beamish  and  Henry  Vancil  Doane. 

And  so  when,  all  unprepared,  she  pushed  the  door 
open  and  walked  in,  walked  right  upon  him  as  if  she 
might  have  been  an  apparition,  she  turned  absolutely  to 
the  colour  popularly  assigned  to  such  appearances, 
and  Doane,  rising  halfway  from  his  chair  to  do  honour 
to  the  lady,  was  suddenly  stricken  by  the  shock  and 
fell  to  the  floor,  even  whiter  than  she,  in  the  first  faint 
of  his  life. 

148 


"THE    GREAT   DOCTOR    MIDDANE!'*     149 

Well  for  Mary  Standlaws  that  it  was  he  and  not 
she  whose  feelings  had  suffered  prostration.  Well  for 
her  that  the  old  doctor  was  there  to  kneel  at  the  man's 
side,  and  feel  his  chest  and  say :  "  Pore  fellow.  He 
said  this  was  his  fust  time  out  since  his  sickness.  The 
walk  must  a  been  too  much  for  him." 

A  faint  was  not  a  thing  to  create  any  great  alarm 
in  the  hearts  of  such  experienced  people.  Mary  was 
glad  of  the  opportunity  which  the  administration  of 
remedies  gave  her  for  recovery. 

''  I'll  look  after  him,"  she  volunteered.  The  others 
went  about  their  business  leaving  her  in  full  charge. 

"  So  you  are  the  great  Doctor  Middane!  "  she  cried, 
as  he  returned  to  consciousness.  "  Some  one  said  they 
had  heard  you  were  the  man,  but  I  refused  to  be- 
lieve it." 

Since  it  occurred  to  her  that  the  woman  would  pre- 
fer to  have  her  presence  unknown,  and  from  a  very 
positive  feeling  that  she  would  be  better  so,  she  did 
not  disclose  her  informant. 

"  I  don't  know  why  you  should  refuse  to  believe  it,*' 
he  replied.  "  My  business  is  a  legitimate  branch  of 
my  profession,  which  is  more  than  can  be  said  of  what 
your  father  did." 

"  My  father  is  dead,"  she  cried.  "  Do  not  speak  of 
him.  He  died  realizing  his  errors  and  desiring  to 
atone  for  them." 

"  You  have  the  opportunity  to  carry  out  his  wishes 
now,  Mary,"  he  said,  eagerly. 

'*  Do  you  know  what  his  wishes  were?  " 

"  I  think  I  do.  In  his  last  days  he  imbibed  some 
ideas  which  I  think  were  mistaken.  The  Oxyjuvenator 
which  made  his  money  is  an  instrument  which  has 
done  immense  good.    But  because  it  is  simple  in  make 


150  THE    CASTLE    OP    CHEER 

and  costs  little  your  father  conceived  the  idea  of  re- 
turning the  purchase  money  to  all  buyers  of  whom  any 
record  had  been  preserved.  He  forgot  how  much 
good  the  majority  had  received  and  thought  only  of 
the  few  who  were  discontented.  However,  you  can 
now  carry  out  his  wishes.  Do  you  know  the  terms  of 
my  father^s  will?" 

"  I  heard  them  weeks  ago.*' 

"  And  you  did  not  try  to  communicate  with  me?  " 

"  I  made  no  attempt,  because  I  do  not  intend  to 
comply  with  his  c  ndition.'* 

*'  Not  claim  the  money !  Let  all  that  fortune  go 
to  an  exploring  association !  Do  you  know  that  I  have 
spent  a  fortune  searching  for  you  to  fulfil  these  con- 
ditions?" 

"  I  am  sorry,  but  I  can  never  meet  the  conditions 
of  that  will." 

"  You  were  willing  enough  to  marry  me  at  one 
time,  Mary.  Why  not  now,  with  millions  depending 
on  it?" 

"  No  amount  of  money  will  make  any  difference 
to  me." 

"  But  it  does  to  me.  I  need  that  money.  Marry  me 
and  take  half  the  estate,  and  I  will  disappear." 

"  Your  offer  does  not  tempt  me.  Nothing  that  you 
can  say  will  change  me.  And  what  about  the  wife 
you  have  already  married  and  deserted?" 

"  I  did  not  marry  her,  Mary.  It  is  a  wicked  lie. 
She  told  you  that  to  break  our  engagement.  Cannot  I 
convince  you  that  I  am  honest  ?  " 

"  Posing  as  Doctor  Middane  does  not  convince  me." 

"Why  speak  of  that?  You  also  are  posing  under 
an  assumed  name." 

**  It  was  my  mother's.     I  took  it  because  in  our 


"THE    GREAT    DOCTOR    MIDDANE!"     151 

changed  condition  it  was  best  to  cut  loose  from  all  old 
associations.    I  have  nothing  to  gain  or  lose  by  it." 

"  You  can  go  back  to  your  old  associates  with  more 
wealth  than  ever.    Won't  you  give  me  a  chance?  " 

"  Not  to  marry  me.  You  have  a  chance  to  be  hon- 
est if  you  wish.  Close  the  institution  you  are  using  to 
cheat  poor  unfortunates  whose  pitiful  state  of  health 
should  stir  the  pity  of  even  as  hard  a  man  as  you.  But 
even  then,  I  would  not  marry  you." 

"  But  just  for  a  day,  Mary.  Just  long  enough  to 
prove  the  will.  Then  you  can  keep  half  the  money, 
and  I  will  go  away  where  you  will  never  see  me  again.*' 

"  Doctor  Middane,"  it  was  the  head  nurse  speaking 
now.  "  You  are  sufficiently  recovered  to  return  to 
town.  I  will  have  the  carriage  sent  to  the  door  for 
you.  You  will  excuse  me.  I  have  work  demanding 
my  attention." 

"  I  can  go  the  way  I  came,"  the  doctor  cried,  furi- 
ously. He  opened  the  door  and  strode  down  the  walk 
with  a  vigour  supplemented  by  an  unholy  rage.  Mary 
watched  him  go  without  sympathy.  She  had  still  a 
shot  in  reserve  had  he  made  further  argument,  for  she 
had  not  yet  told  him  that  his  wife  was  at  The  Castle. 

The  doctor  had  not  gone  far  from  the  sanatorium 
before  he  found  it  wise  to  moderate  his  pace  to  a 
thoughtful  walk.  At  least  he  had  some  room  for 
congratulation.  His  trip  had  not  been  unprofitable. 
Mary  was  not  only  alive,  but  practically  in  his  hands. 
Her  scorn  was  nonsense.  She  would  soon  yield  when 
she  saw  a  little  more  of  him.  And  he  would  see  that 
she  did  see  more  of  him.  He  was  sincere  in  believing 
the  other  woman  to  be  dead,  so  from  his  point  of  view 
there  was  no  barrier  to  Mary  doing  as  he  wished.  He 
was  quite  certain  that  when  she  had  a  little  time  to  think 


152  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

of  that  immense  fortune,  she  would  see  the  desirabihty 
of  possessing  it,  and  that  meant  that  he  would  possess 
it.  Meantime  he  must  make  the  most  of  his  present 
business,  for  funds  were  low  since  his  illness  and  he 
needed  money  for  immediate  use,  for  winter  with  its 
extra  expense  was  already  biting  its  first  few  nips. 

As  he  walked,  with  these  thoughts  in  his  mind,  he 
found  himself  overtaking  a  lady  who  was  certainly  a 
patient.  It  was  not  a  hard  matter  for  the  gallant  doc- 
tor to  introduce  himself  to  Miss  Jolley,  who  was  in- 
clined to  be  rather  promiscuous  in  her  acquaintance- 
ships. 

"Been  visiting  The  Castle,  have  you?"  she  said. 
"  That's  a  sanatorium  for  you !  Most  any  of  you  doc- 
tors could  get  pointers  from  there,  I  guarantee." 

"  Indeed  we  could,"  agreed  Doctor  Middane.  "  In- 
deed we  could,  my  dear  lady." 

"  You  certainly  could,"  said  Miss  Jolley.  "  And 
without  me  being  your  dear  lady,  either." 

"  You  have  been  a  long  time  there?  "  asked  the 
doctor. 

"  Quite  some  while.  I've  been  a  slow  case;  but  I'm 
doing  well  now.  Doctor  says  the  important  thing  is 
to  make  it  thorough.  One  or  two  months  isn't  enough. 
We  like  it,  anyway." 

"  You  have  some  fine  patients,  though  no  very 
wealthy  ones,  I  take  it?  "  observed  crafty  Doctor  Mid- 
dane. 

"  You  don't  take  it  from  me,"  objected  Miss  Jolley. 
"  Why,  we  have  an  Italian  count  so  important  that  he 
never  mixes  with  common  people  at  all,  and  so  rich 
that  he  has  to  have  a  special  vault  to  keep  his  money." 

"  Remarkable !  "  exclaimed  the  doctor.  "  What  is 
his  name?" 


"THE    GREAT    DOCTOR    MIDDANE!''     153 

Sad  to  say,  Miss  Jolley  did  not  know;  but  being 
loath  to  make  such  a  confession  she  seized  upon  a 
despicable  subterfuge. 

"  He  doesn't  go  by  his  real  name^ — ^one  o'  these  in- 
cognature's  noblemen,  you  know.  He's  afraid  he 
might  get  so  much  attention  he  couldn't  get  well." 

"  And  you  never  see  him  ?  " 

"  Most  of  us  don't.  But  me  speaking  Italian — took 
it  two  terms  in  a  settlement  night  school — I've  been 
to  call.  He's  a  real,  pleasant  nobleman;  and  rich — 
words  can't  express  his  riches !  " 

Doctor  Middane  turned  a  good  many  things  in  his 
scheming  mind  as  he  strode  on  to  Latham  Centre  at 
more  rapid  speed.  He  must  get  hold  of  this  Italian 
count.  He  would  be  fine  picking  and  the  finest  kind  of 
advertising.  There  was  an  Italian  not  a  thousand 
miles  away  whom  he  could  employ  to  go  to  The  Castle 
and  speak  such  Italian  language  as  no  two  terms  ever 
gave  to  the  most  apt  student.  And  while  he  was  look- 
ing after  the  Italian  count  he  could  keep  one  eye,  at 
least,  on  the  head  nurse. 


XXIV 

THE   "EYETALIAN'^   TACKLES   A   JOB   OF 

WORK 

IN  this  middle  western  country  winter  is  very  real 
— by  spells.  Days  and  weeks  will  go  by  with  no 
more  than  an  occasional  nippy  morning,  a  cloudy 
sky  or  a  cold  rain.  Optimistic  young  folks  will  begin 
to  talk  about  having  an  open  winter  this  year;  pes- 
simistic old  folks  will  putter  about,  pinching  open  the 
fruit  buds  to  see  their  condition,  and  making  dire 
predictions  of  what  will  happen  to  the  fruit  if  this 
keeps  on;  the  weather-wise  will  shake  their  heads  and 
tell  you  that  it  can't  last,  but  when  they  have  repeated 
their  prediction  day  after  day  without  any  encourage- 
ment from  the  heavens  above,  they  will  begin  to  hedge 
a  little.  Then  will  come  a  grey  morning,  a  chill  wind 
changing  to  a  cold  one,  a  day  of  driving,  hurrying 
skies,  a  few  flakes  of  falling  moisture  biting  into  your 
face,  and  suddenly  winter  with  its  embellishments  is 
really  here. 

There  is  not  often  the  steady,  silent  dropping  of 
calm,  big  snowflakes ;  generally  the  accompanying  wind 
spoils  this  display.  It  will  come  down  in  white,  slant- 
ing lines  with  large  interspaces  so  that  you  wonder 
that  it  covers  the  earth  so  quickly  from  view.  Occa- 
sionally eddying  currents  will  cause  it  to  whirl  in 
every  direction,  even  upward,  so  that  you  might  think 
it  to  be  snowing  up  instead  of  down.  Sometimes  it 
comes  in  a  fine  powder  which  hardly  reveals  any  flakes, 

154 


THE  "  EYETALIAN  "  TACKLES  A  JOB     155 

but  in  pulverized  form  drives  and  billows  and  rushes 
as  if  with  repeated  charges,  wherever  the  wind  in  its 
wild  gusts  sends  it. 

Soon  the  earth's  surface  is  changed,  all  its  unsight- 
liness  is  blotted  out,  all  its  irregularities  are  levelled, 
its  debris  is  mercifully  cloaked,  it  shows  a  pure,  white, 
even  mantle,  like  a  snowy  counterpane  which  has  been 
stretched  and  pulled  and  tucked  by  a  clever  house- 
keeper; and  you  are  bound  to  think  of  the  cloak  of 
charity,  which  blots  out  all  vice  and  ugliness,  levels  all 
social  ranks,  and  for  the  time  puts  just  and  unjust 
on  an  equal  plane.  Such  a  visitation  did  Latham  Cen- 
tre and  its  neighbourhood  receive  during  the  week 
before  Christmas,  bringing  heightened  holiday  joy  to 
the  prosperous,  and  an  intensified  bitterness  of  poverty 
to  the  poor. 

It  meant  no  especial  hardship  at  The  Castle,  for  the 
unpretentious  sanatorium  had  been  thoughtfully 
planned  by  those  who  well  knew  their  climatic  varia- 
tions. Its  chief  detriment  was  in  limiting  outdoor 
pursuits  on  the  part  of  some  of  the  patients,  but  it 
added  so  to  the  beauty  of  the  country  and  brought  so 
much  romantic  uplift  and  pleasurable  change  to  the 
hearts  of  all  patients  alike  as  to  compensate  for  its 
deprivations. 

To  those  responsible  for  the  work  and  welfare  of 
the  sanatorium,  however,  it  meant  greatly  increased 
work.  The  patients  must  not  be  shut  off  from  the 
fresh  air  because  it  was  cold;  consequently  there  must 
be  great  additions  of  clothing  to  conserve  the  heat  of 
their  bodies,  and  all  manner  of  devices  for  artificial 
heat.  The  central  heating  plant  was  so  taxed  that  its 
care  at  this  time  demanded  the  full  attention  of  their 
utility  man,  leaving  him  no  time  for  the  very  essen- 


156  THE    CASTLE   OF   CHEER 

tial   work   of   cleaning   the   snow    from   the   broad 
walks. 

Mary  Standlaws  was  glad  of  the  many  extra  duties 
which  kept  her  too  busy  for  gloom.  She  had  not  been 
troubled,  so  far,  with  further  advances  from  Doctor 
Middane.  She  knew  the  reason  of  her  reprieve.  The 
doctor's  wound,  superficial  though  it  seemed,  had  been 
quite  deep  in  its  effects  upon  him,  perhaps  because  it 
met  little  resistance  in  a  body  which  had  long  given 
itself  to  indulgences.  His  visit  to  The  Castle  and  the 
long  walk  home  had  resulted  disastrously,  and  he  had 
been  kept  to  his  bed  ever  since.  But  certain  reports  from 
Latham  Centre  indicated  that  he  was  better,  and  Mary 
felt  that  he  was  to  be  feared.  The  active  direction  of 
the  sanatorium  was  upon  her  shoulders,  however,  and 
its  complex  affairs  left  little  time  for  worry. 

Mary  did  not  know  that  she  was  opening  her  doors 
to  the  enemy  when  she  welcomed  so  cheerfully  an 
Italian  labourer  from  Latham  Centre,  who  desired  any 
kind  of  honest  work.  Here  was  her  opportunity  to 
relieve  the  burdens  of  their  overworked  utility  man. 
There  was  Mr.  Bissington  Jones  shovelling  snow  this 
very  minute — work  sufficiently  hard  that  no  patient 
should  be  expected  to  do  it,  and  to  but  a  few  could  it 
be  allowed. 

Bissington  Jones  was  a  very  helpful  patient.  Others 
of  the  improved  class  might  elect  to  tramp  through  the 
snow,  or  coast  on  the  hills,  or  look  for  a  clear  place  to 
skate;  but  he  found  his  pleasure,  this  morning,  in  put- 
ting the  walks  in  such  condition  that  the  less  robust 
patients  might  find  a  dry  place  for  their  limited 
promenades  and  the  nurses  might  pass  freely  between 
the  buildings.  He  professed  a  liking  for  the  work. 
As  his  shovel  lifted  the  snow  in  compact  cakes  and 


THE  "  EYETALIAN  "  TACKLES  A  JOB     157 

revealed  clear  pavement  beneath,  he  was  not  shovel- 
ling snow  from  the  walk,  he  was  clearing  from  his 
path  obstacles  and  enemies.  As  the  clear  space  grew 
trim  and  neat  beneath  his  strokes  he  was  carving  his 
path  to  fame.  As  he  lifted  a  particularly  cohesive 
mass  and  flung  it  clear  of  his  way,  his  cry  was  "  So 
much  for  Buckingham !  "  He  was  enjoying  himself 
so  much  that  he  did  not  hear  the  muffled  footfall  of  the 
nurse,  and  was  unconscious  of  her  presence  until  she 
spoke  his  name. 

"  You  really  seem  to  enjoy  this  kind  of  thing,"  said 
Mary. 

"  I  do.  I  always  did,  but  now  more  than  ever.  I 
have  been  in  this  haven  of  rest  for  getting  on  a  year.  I 
am  tired  of  haven,  tired  of  port;  I  want  to  spread  my 
sails  to  a  good  strong  breeze  and  be  out  to  meet  the 
buffet  of  the  waves." 

"  That  is  very  nicely  said,  Mr.  Jones.  I  believe  you 
are  a  poet.  But,  although  your  sails  are  probably 
strong  enough,  these  are  days  of  steam  vessels 
and  some  parts  of  your  machinery  still  need 
repair.  I  think  Doctor  Goodman  would  limit  your 
work." 

*'  Don't  think  so.  Miss  Mary;  I  am  just  about  well. 
I  am  no  steamer,  but  a  beautiful  sailing  vessel,  and  I 
choose  to  try  my  sails  this  way  instead  of  spreading 
them  before  the  wind  on  a  toboggan.  Stroud  is  at 
work  the  other  side  of  the  house.  He  is  a  steamer  if 
you  like — twin-screw,  all  modern  improvements. 
Why  don't  you  go  and  shut  off  his  machinery  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Stroud  was  an  incipient  case,  you  know,  Mr. 
Jones.  He  is  practically  well  and  we  are  glad  to  have 
his  help.  But  I  have  a  man  who  will  release  both  of 
you.    He  is  an  Italian,  but  he  seems  to  use  very  good 


158  THE    CASTLE   OF    CHEER 

English.  Perhaps  you  will  do  me  the  favour  of 
showing  him  how  to  go  to  work/* 

"  Most  surely  I  will,  Miss  Mary.  The  only  thing  I 
like  better  than  working  is  bossing.  Bring  on  your 
*  Eyetalian.'  After  I  get  him  started  I  will  call  Stroud 
over  to  boss  a  while." 

The  "  Eyetalian  "  seemed  a  fairly  intelligent  man, 
although  not  much  of  a  labourer.  Bissington  Jones, 
choosing  to  work  alongside  for  a  time,  found  that  he 
could  easily  outdo  him.  No  doubt  the  explanation 
was  that,  as  a  native  of  sunny  Italy,  he  was  unused 
to  snow.  But  he  could  talk,  was  quite  a  conversational- 
ist in  fact,  and  after  a  time  Bissington  Jones,  lawyer, 
awoke  to  the  conviction  that  he  was  being  pumped. 
Objectionable  though  this  might  be,  his  lawyer  train- 
ing kept  him  from  expressing  any  annoyance  or  in- 
terest; if  this  was  a  cross-examination  it  was  his 
purpose  to  find  out  why  it  was  being  conducted.  It 
was  not  until  he  was  satisfied  of  its  object  that  he 
threw  down  his  shovel  and  went  to  find  Stroud. 

Jones  had  liked  Stroud  from  his  first  appearance. 
He  had  taken  him  up  with  some  sense  of  patronage 
at  first,  but  this  dissolved  rapidly  as  the  acquaintance 
grew  and  he  realized  that  his  new  friend  was  a  leader 
of  unusual  qualities.  He  was  now  as  intimate  with 
him  as  with  Cassius. 

"  Hullo,  Stroud;  are  you  labouring  to  win  the  ap- 
plause of  the  populace  or  the  individual?  YouVe 
done  enough  for  this  morning,  parson;  put  away  your 
shovel,"  he  counselled.  "  I'm  both  surprised  and  grati- 
fied to  find  a  man  of  such  tremendous  affairs  engaged 
in  such  simple  tasks." 

"  You  need  have  no  surprise,"  Stroud  replied,  rest- 
ing on  his  shovel.    "  I'm  doing  this  because  I  like  it. 


THE  "  EYETALIAN  "  TACKLES  A  JOB     159 

A  few  months  ago  I  felt  that  the  fate  of  Chicago's  best 
and  worst  people  depended  upon  my  activities.  Now 
the  quiet  of  this  place  has  crept  into  my  blood.  I  have 
become  detached  from  the  whirl  of  altruistic  activity. 
I  see  things  going  on  apparently  as  well  without  as 
with  me,  and  I  don't  seem  to  care  much  if  they 
do." 

"  That's  just  a  stage  in  the  game,  Stroud.  You'll 
pass  that  in  a  short  time.  Then  you'll  begin  to  feel 
an  itch  to  take  a  lance  and  break  it  in  the  tournament 
— even  though  there  are  attractions  here  for  you,  which 
a  man  of  family  can  smell  and  sniff  at  without  tempta- 
tion." 

Stroud  disdained  the  implication  and  changed  the 
subject. 

"  Why  drop  your  shovel  while  work  remains  to  be 
done  ?  This  is  a  pleasing  and  a  worthy  work.  Begone 
with  your  interruptions." 

"  No  need  to  do  more  this  morning.  Around  the 
corner  is  an  *  Eyetalian '  who.  Miss  Mary  thinks,  is 
engaged  for  the  simple  purpose  of  odd  jobs." 

**  Why  do  you  put  it  in  that  way?  " 

"  Because  I  think  he  has  other  purposes  in  view. 
I  can't  quite  make  up  my  mind  whether  he  is  an 
anarchist  or  a  detective." 

"  Your  humour  is  wasted  on  me,  Biss.  What  would 
an  anarchist  or  a  detective  want  around  here  ?  " 

*'  I'm  not  exactly  clear.  But,  mistaking  me  for  an 
understudy  to  the  furnace  man — for  which  I  entertain 
no  prejudice  against  him — the  gentleman  was  rather 
unguarded,  and  betrayed  very  clearly  the  fact  that  his 
interest  did  not  lie  in  odd  jobs.  I  studied  his  ques- 
tions with  such  intelligence  as  still  remains  to  a  former 
member  of  the  Illinois  bar,  and  my  conclusion  is  that 


160  THE    CASTLE   OF   CHEER 

his  business  centres  in  two  persons.  The  first  of  these 
is  our  ItaHan  count." 

"  You  think  he  has  some  suspicion  of  his  identity 
and  is  here  to  smell  him  out?  " 

"  Of  course  I  can't  say;  but  his  smelling  may  prove 
very  troublesome  to  Luigi." 

"  And  who  is  the  other  suspect  ? '' 

"  None  other  than  the  head  nurse,  Miss  Mary  Stand- 
laws.  He  certainly  displayed  an  interest  scarcely  to 
be  expected  from  an  Italian  labourer.'* 

"  Fudge,  man ;  every  Italian  has  an  eye  for  beauty. 
There  is  no  mystery  about  that,"  said  the  Reverend 
Milton  Stroud. 


XXV 

THE  MYSTERIOUS  STRANGER 

IT  was  yet  a  couple  of  days  before  Christmas  when 
Bissington  Jones  felt  that  he  had  at  last  fathomed 
the  secret  purposes  of  the  Italian.  His  discovery 
did  not  tend  to  put  him  in  greater  harmony  with  the 
spirit  of  the  season.  It  was  rather  an  angry  face  that 
he  bore  into  the  rest-room  where  Stroud  and  Banks 
were  lounging  in  peaceful  conversation. 

"  I  have  solved  the  mystery  of  the  Italian  detective/' 
he  announced.  "  I  suppose  the  credit  doesn't  really  be- 
long to  me.  Our  clever  little  friend,  Miss  Jolley,  put 
the  clue  into  my  hands;  She  has  been  interviewing 
Luigi,  it  seems ;  and  as  she  leaves  for  her  home  to-day 
she  felt  that  she  must  tell  me  what  she  had  discovered." 

"  I  understood,"  objected  Cassius,  "  that  Luigi's 
visitors  were  limited  to  our  own  select  circle." 

**  Supposed  to  be;  but  it  seems  Miss  Jolley  had 
studied  some  Italian  at  one  time  and  was  bound  to 
try  it  on.  She  doesn't  yet  know  that  he  speaks  Eng- 
lish. What  she  discovered  was  that  she  was  not  the 
only  one  to  speak  Italian  to  him." 

"Ha,  ha!  The  mysterious  stranger!"  exclaimed 
Cassius. 

"  Right.  Miss  Jolley  finds  that  this  man  of  mystery 
is  tempting  our  Italian  nobleman  to  leave  us  so  that 
he  may  receive  the  more  spectacular,  not  to  say  pointed 
treatment  given  at  the  Middane  sanatorium.  New 
Hope." 

m 


162  THE    CASTLE    OF   CHEER 

"  So  that  explains  it/'  said  Stroud.  "  The  man  is 
no  detective  but  just  a  runner  for  the  New  Hope  peo- 
ple. Having  heard  of  our  rich  Itahan  count  they  are 
taking  all  this  trouble  to  steal  him." 

"  You  don't  suppose  they  suspect  his  identity?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least.  It  is  not  Luigi,  the  barber,  they 
are  after.  To  them  he  is  an  Italian  count.  He  is 
wealthy.  Not  only  will  he  pay  large  fees  but  his  ad- 
vertising value  is  immense.  It's  amusing  in  a  way. 
But  there's  another  side  to  it  not  at  all  amusing.  I 
don't  think  you  could  guess  it  in  a  year." 

"  I  don't  want  to  guess,"  said  Cassius.  "  I  shall 
have  temperature  if  I  overwork  my  mind  in  that  way." 

Cassius  was  not  a  good  patient.  He  did  not  lose  his 
lean  and  hungry  look  as  readily  as  might  be  desired, 
and  his  temperature  was  prone  to  perform  acrobatic 
feats  on  little  provocation. 

"  It  will  hurt  your  feelings,"  said  Bissington  Jones. 
"  It  did  mine.    Perhaps  I'd  better  not  tell  you." 

"  Go  on,"  commanded  Cassius.  "  Roll  it  off  your 
mind;  especially  if  the  sour  look  you  wear  is  prompted 
by  it." 

"  Sour  may  describe  my  look  but  it  doesn't  my  feel- 
ings. I  am  exasperated  beyond  measure.  I  can  hardly 
believe  it  to  be  true,  but  Miss  Jolley  insists  that  such  is 
the  case.  This  man  Luigi,  after  all  we  have  done  for 
him,  actually  wants  to  go  to  that  New  Hope  place !  " 

**  Wants  to  put  his  head  in  a  trap  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no !  He  believes  he  is  changed  so  that  they 
won't  know  him.  He's  crazy  to  take  that  wonderful 
advertised  treatment  for  which  he  has  already  risked 
life  and  liberty.    He's  positively  wild  to  do  it." 

"  Of  all  the  crazy "  began  Cassius,   but  was 

checked  by  Milton  Stroud. 


THE    MYSTERIOUS    STRANGER        163 

"  It's  just  human  nature,"  said  he.  "  It's  exactly 
the  weakness  that  makes  quack  advertising  so  success- 
ful. The  people  want  something  spectacular.  They 
want  to  have  a  needle  stuck  into  them — or  a  machine 
run  over  them — or  a  large  dose  of  something  nasty 
from  a  dark-coloured  bottle.  The  mere  fact  that 
Luigi  is  gaining  weight  and  losing  his  cough  doesn't 
convince  him.  He  thinks  that  if  he  can  get  the  ad- 
vertised treatment  natural  means  of  cure  will  be  tran- 
scended.   He  will  be  well  in  a  day." 

"What  shall  we  do  about  it?'*  asked  Cassius. 
"  Fire  the  Italian  snooper  off  the  ground  and  warn 
Luigi  to  behave?" 

"  No  good,"  said  Jones.  ''  Miss  Jolley  says  that  he 
is  so  determined  to  accept  the  invitation  that  he  will 
go  in  spite  of  everything." 

''  It  will  hurt  the  old  doctor's  feelings  terribly  after 
all  his  kindness  to  the  fellow,"  said  Cassius.  "  Look 
here,  Jones.  You  and  I  brought  that  chap  here  with- 
out asking  permission  of  any  one.  If  he's  going  to 
cut  up  in  this  ungrateful  way  let's  send  him  packing 
with  as  few  words  as  we  brought  him." 

"  It  would  be  dangerous,"  objected  Stroud. 

"  Dangerous  in  what  way?  " 

"  I  was  thinking  of  two  things :  his  health  and  the 
possibility  of  their  identifying  him." 

"  Not  much  danger  of  the  latter  if  he  keeps  his 
mouth  closed,  which  he's  smart  enough  to  do.  You 
could  fix  him  so  they  would  find  it  hard  to  recognize 
him,  couldn't  you,  Cass  ?  " 

"  Easy  matter,"  said  Cassius.  "  He  is  no  longer 
the  man  he  was.  His  own  wife  wouldn't  know  him  if 
she  met  him  on  the  street.  His  hollow  face  has  filled 
out.    His  tremendous  black  moustache  has  disappeared. 


164  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

His  hair,  instead  of  being  long  and  flowing,  is  now 
short  and  curly.  All  for  him  to  do  will  be  to  keep  out 
of  sight  of  his  Latham  Centre  acquaintances.  Re- 
member, these  sanatorium  people  never  saw  him  ex- 
cepting for  one  brief  hour.'' 

"  And  you  will  actually  let  him  go?  *'  asked  Stroud. 
"What  will  the  doctor  say?" 

"  It  is  to  save  him  from  having  to  say  anything  that 
we  will  see  that  the  ungrateful  Luigi  is  shipped,"  said 
Cassius.  "  He  will  soon  get  enough  of  it.  Perhaps 
we  can  arrange  for  him  to  come  back  then." 

"  And  who  will  supply  the  money  to  introduce  this 
Italian  nobleman  to  New  Hope?  " 

**  There  will  be  no  money  beyond  the  first  payment. 
That  will  be  two  hundred  dollars  which  is  the  exact 
sum  we  have  been  holding,  ever  since  Luigi  threw  it  at 
our  feet  the  night  he  came.  It  is  right  and  proper  that 
he  should  now  return  it." 

"  I  would  gladly  save  the  old  doctor's  feelings,  but 
I'm  far  from  sure  that  your  plan  is  the  best  way  to  do 
it,"  Stroud  still  objected. 

"  We'll  take  the  responsibility,"  said  Cassius. 
"  Johnny  Langston  will  help  and  will  give  an  eye  to 
Luigi  after  we  get  him  shipped.  He's  a  good  scout,  is 
Johnny,  and  he'll  appreciate  the  joke  on  the  New  Hope 
people.  Luigi  must  go,  and  the  good,  kind  doctor  at 
New  Hope  shall  have  him  for  a  Christmas  gift." 


XXVI 
MUZZLED  GERMS 

A  LTHOUGH  the  old  doctor  made  no  pretence  at 
r\  the  executive  administration  of  the  affairs  of 
The  Castle,  it  was  rather  a  bold  step  to  send 
a  patient  away  without  consulting  him  at  all.  But 
even  as  Luigi  had  been  received  without  counsel  with 
him,  so  was  he  sent  away.  There  were  reasons  why 
schemes,  plots,  and  other  affairs  of  duplicity  were  con- 
sidered unfavourable  topics  for  discussion  with  Doc. 

"  So  your  Italian  count  has  gone,"  remarked  Bis- 
sington  Jones,  innocently,  in  an  endeavour  to  discover 
his  feelings  on  the  subject. 

"Yes,  he's  gone;  an'  that  ain't  to  say  he's  alto- 
gether well,  ye  understan'  me.  I'm  wishin'  he'll  come 
to  no  harm." 

"  I  suppose  you  are  always  sorry  when  one  of  us 
leaves  you,"  suggested  Bissington. 

"  Sorry  when  ye  leave  too  soon.  Not  sorry  when  ye 
stay  long  'nuff  so  yo're  all  tinkered  up  'bout  as  well 
as  we  can  do,  an'  got  yore  fightin'  germs  all  workin 
agen  the  disease." 

"  I'm  sorry  to  hear  you  talking  that  way,  Doctor. 
I  hoped  there  was  one  doctor  with  enough  sense  not  to 
be  afraid  of  the  germ  bogey." 

"Who's  sayin'  I'm  afraid?" 

"  You  sound  like  it.  All  you  doctors  are  afraid  of 
germs." 

"  Not  me,  son.    The  disease  germs  used  to  trouble 

165 


166  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

me  a  hull  lot,  I'll  admit.  Sounded  right  careless  o'  God 
to  let  things  o'  that  kind  be  a-stalkin'  round  His  uni- 
verse seeking  who  they  might  devour.  Quite  a 
while  'fore  I'd  allow  anything  of  the  kind.  Thought 
mebbe  'twas  some  insult  the  ol'  devil  was  a-tryin'  to 
put  on  Him  an'  the  best  thing  I  could  do  was  to  say 
'tain't  so,  ye  understan'  me.  I  certainly  didn't  want 
to  b'lieve  in  'em." 

"But  you  do  now?"  asked  Bissington.  "What 
converted  you  ?  " 

"  Well,  they  showed  me  the  pictures  o'  some  on  'em 
all  finished  up,  cabinet  style,  a  dozen  for  Christmas  an' 
one  big  un  throwed  in  to  go  on  the  mantel,  an'  it 
seemed  like  they  wasn't  hardly  no  gettin'  around  it,  ye 
understan'  me.  I  'low  I  was  plumb  mis'able  for  a 
while  every  time  I  heard  mention  o'  germs  an'  that  was 
putty  often. 

"  Then  comes  Davy  home  for  his  vacation,  an'  I 
says  to  him,  says  I :  *  Tell  me  'bout  these  yere  germs, 
Davy.  'Pears  like  the  ol'  devil  slipped  one  over  on 
God  a-makin'  of  'em  to  pester  the  whole  universe. 
You  a-studyin'  in  Germany,'.  I  says,  '  you  cert'ny  orter 
know  what  they  is  to  germs  or  germ  theeries.' 

"  Well,  Davy,  he  jest  laughs.  He  ain't  never  much 
of  a  han'  to  talk,  Davy  ain't.  *  Of  course,  ye  know 
they's  germs  to  everything.  Dad,'  he  says. 

"  *  Yes,'  says  I,  '  germs  to  diphthery  an'  typhoid  an' 
consumption  an'  the  rest  o'  them  things,  of  course.' 

"  But  Davy  ain't  satisfied  at  that.  '  Yes,'  says  he, 
*  an'  germs  to  yeast  an'  vinegar  an'  this  an'  that,  an' 
even  germs  to  a  good  man  like  Doc  Williams.' 

"  *  Why,  they  ain't  no  germs  on  me,  Davy,'  says  I, 
kind  o'  skeert. 

"  *  I  reckon  they  wouldn't  be  no  Doc  no  other  way,' 


MUZZLED    GERMS  167 

says  Davy.  '  Germs  means  life/  says  he.  *  Every- 
thing what  Hves  is  a  germ  or  has  been  one.  They*s 
germs  an'  germs;  though  what  people  mostly  thinks  of 
when  they  talk  of  germs  is  bacteria.  Even  these  yere 
bacteria  ain't  all  bad  by  no  means.  They's  'bout  four 
thousan'  kind  as  ye  can  see  under  the  mikerscope  an' 
call  by  their  christened  names  an'  surnames  if  so  be 
yo're  right  well  'quainted,'  says  he.  *  But  even  out  o' 
these  'tain't  only  some  half  a  hundred  or  thereabout 
as  has  anything  to  do  with  disease,'  says  he.  '  An'  it 
ain't  proved  but  what  them  has  some  good  function 
some  place  or  other,  but  they  cert'nly  ain't  wanted  in- 
side of  us.'  Of  course,  bein'  a  lawyer  an'  a  man  o' 
learnin',  this  ain't  nothin'  new  to  you." 

"  Doctor,  I'll  just  own  up.  I  don't  know  a  thing 
about  it  and  I  rather  think  most  lawyers  are  about  as 
ignorant  as  I." 

The  doctor  laughed  with  the  glee  of  a  child. 

"  Sometimes  it  makes  me  feel  better  'bout  what  I 
don't  know  when  I  finds  you  fellows  out — you  men  as 
has  such  splendid  language  an'  terrible  important  looks, 
an'  then  not  knowin'  no  more'n  jest  ordinary  people, 
wunst  ye  leave  yore  reg'lar  track.  Well,  Davy  told 
me  a  whole  lot  more'n  that.  It  seems  they's  good 
germs  as  fights  the  disease  germs;  jest  opens  a  little  an' 
swallows  of  'em  up.  He  got  out  his  mikerscope  an' 
fixed  up  some  specimens,  an'  I  declare  I  seen  'em 
a-doin'  it  myself. 

"  *  Why,'  says  he,  *  germs — disease  germs — they 
can't  do  nothin'  to  ye  if  yore  own  germs  is  on  the  job, 
ye  understan'  me.  That's  why  ye've  lived  along  all 
these  years.  You  ain't  never  been  'fraid  o'  germs. 
Years  an'  years  you  lived  'thout  knowin'  they  was  no 
sech  thing.     But  all  this  time  yore  good  germs  was 


168  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

a-takin'  care  of  ye,  an*  now  ye  knows  'bout  'em  it'll  be 
jest  the  same  way.' 

"  I've  figgered  consid'ble  'bout  germs  since  then  an' 
I've  got  my  own  idees  'bout  it.  They  mightn't  do  no 
good  for  a  up-to-date  lawyer  but  they's  good  enough 
for  old  Doc." 

"  Now,  Doctor,  don't  draw  into  your  shell,"  urged 
Jones.  "  You  know  that  I  believe  your  medical  knowl- 
edge to  be  equalled  by  few  and  surpassed  by  none. 
Tell  me  those  ideas." 

"  Well,  s'posin'  yo're  good  an'  healthy ;  not  dis- 
sipatin'  none  an'  keepin'  yore  house  in  good  order. 
Along  comes  a  germ,  lookin'  for  a  chanct  to  buy  a 
home  on  the  'nstallment  plan.  S'posin'  he  walks  in  at 
yore  door  he  gits  such  a  welcome  f'm  yore  agents  'at 
he  c'ncludes  all  he  needs  is  a  nice  little  burial  lot.  But 
s'posin'  he'd  went  on  to  some  young  sport  who'd  ben 
wastin'  his  substance — his  germ-destroyin'  substance 
— in  riotous  livin'  for  months  an'  years.  He  don't 
meet  no  opposition,  an'  it  don't  take  him  no  time  to 
raise  fust  one  fambly  an'  then  hull  colonies  of  famblies, 
for  these  yere  germs  jest  natchully  beats  guinea  pigs 
for  perducin'  their  kind.  Well,  even  this  dissipated 
fellow's  got  a  show.  His  own  germs,  what's  been 
weakened  an'  wasted,  rallies  together  an'  there's  quite 
a  fight  on.  This  yere  fight  as  goes  on  is  what  we  call 
disease — mebbe  the  doctor  puts  a  label  on  it  marked 
typhoid.  S'long  as  the  young  fellow's  germs  is 
fightin'  he  has  a  good  show.  It's  too  bad,  but  they 
is  times  when  some  fool  doctor  gits  so  disturbed  'bout 
the  activity  his  germs  puts  up  that  he  begins  dosin' 
'em  with  somethin'  'at  catches  'em  below  the  belt  an' 
puts  'em  to  the  mat.  But  leave  'em  alone  an'  they 
prob'ly  wins  out,  an'  they've  got  so  strong  in  this 


MUZZLED    GERMS  16^ 

fight  that  that  p'ticler  kind  o'  disease  germ  can't  never 
camp  in  the  same  woods  with  'em  again,  not  as  a  gen- 
eral thing,  ye  understan'  me." 

"  Good  enough !  "  remarked  Bissington  Jones.  "  But 
if  we  are  all  equipped  with  automatic  destroyers  why 
give  them  any  thought  ?  " 

"  Yore  destroyer  might  slip  a  cog  some  day.  No 
good  runnin'  into  danger.  It's  good  to  know  jest  'nuff 
'bout  'em  so  ye  won't  be  careless  like  in  yore  habits  an' 
so  you'll  know  'nuff  to  keep  yore  autymatic  destroyer 
fired  up." 

"  And  no  need  to  be  scared  of  'em  ?  " 

"  No,  sir.  These  yere  germs  o'  consumption,  now. 
They's  plenty  of  'em.  Fellow  says  he  won't  come  nigh 
The  Castle  'cause  he's  skeert  of  'em.  Shucks!  Up 
here  at  The  Castle  we  got  'em  runnin'  on  chain  an' 
muzzled  at  that.  They  don't  bite  nobody  'cause  we 
knows  just  how  to  keep  'em  down.  Prob'ly  same  fel- 
ler rides  in  a  palace  car  where  they's  forty  million  thou- 
sand of  'em  sleepin'  with  their  feet  right  on  the  parlour 
sofy,  an'  the  on'y  thing  'at  saves  him  is  his  own  germs 
bein'  there,  all  unbeknownst  tO'  him,  settin'  right  up 
with  chips  on  their  shoulders  a-lookin'  ugly. 

"  Dave  says  to  me,  he  says,  *  Prob'ly  most  growed-up 
folks  has  fought  it  out  with  consumption  germs  some 
time  or  other,  an'  has  won  out.  It  doesn't  mean  that 
they  can't  be  tackled  again,  but  they  got  so  strong  win- 
nin'  out,  they  ain't  by  no  means  a  likely  field  for  germs 
o'  that  nature,'  ye  understan'  me." 

And  as  he  walked  away,  Bissington  Jones  realized 
that  he  still  did  not  know  what  the  doctor  thought  of 
Luigi. 


XXVII 

A  CHRISTMAS  GIFT  FROM  THE  CASTLE 

yl  S  is  well  understood  by  all  diplomatic  people,  the 
r\  proper  day  for  presenting  Christmas  gifts  js  the 
■^  "^  twenty-fourth  of  December.  This  rule  is  espe- 
cially valuable  in  the  case  of  the  unexpected  gift.  The 
recipient  may  rub  the  label  off  that  one  of  his  assort- 
ment of  presents  which  has  least  enchanted  the  fancy 
and  make  it  do  return  duty,  if  he  so  desires;  but  he 
is  not  held  to  such  action  so  inflexibly  as  when  the  un- 
looked  for  .gift  comes  the  day  after,  and  finds  the 
stores  all  closed.  It  is  still  possible  for  him  to  mingle 
with  the  late  shoppers,  many  of  them  also  engaged  in 
buying  something  to  save  their  faces.  The  expected 
Christmas  gift  is  a  cheerful  joy,  the  unexpected  one 
should  be  still  more  so — alas,  that  in  so  many  instances 
it  is,  instead,  an  embarrassment. 

The  gift  sent  by  The  Castle  of  Cheer  to  New  Hope 
was  duly  delivered  shortly  after  nightfall.  The  man- 
agement of  New  Hope  did  not  look  upon  it  as  a  Christ- 
mas gift,  with  the  customary  obligations,  and  made  no 
effort  to  reciprocate.  They  supposed  it  was  merely 
a  wealthy  patient  whom  they  had  won  over  to  their 
care  and  control  by  their  own  cleverness.  They  did 
not  know  that  the  delivery  was  made  personally  by 
John  C.  Langston,  using  his  own  automobile  as  a 
taxicab,  or  it  might  have  occurred  to  them  that  it 
would  be  well  to  scrutinize  both  gift  and  giver. 

Mr.  Langston,  having  done  good  and  expeditious 

170 


A    CHRISTMAS    GIFT  171 

work,  turned  his  car  back  in  the  direction  of  The  Cas- 
tle, possibly  with  the  feeling  that  one  good  turn  de- 
serves another.  On  the  principle  that  anything  to 
cheer  the  patient  is  worth  while,  all  holidays  were  well 
celebrated  at  The  Castle  of  Cheer.  But  Christmas  was 
the  crowning  joy.  The  old  doctor  began  his  cele- 
brating early  and  continued  it  late.  To-night  he  had 
actually  agreed  to  ride  in  the  Langston  automobile, 
since  it  covered  a  lot  of  ground  in  a  short  time,  and  he 
had  much  ground  to  cover  and  very  little  time  in  which 
to  do  it. 

When  Johnny  drew  up  at  the  door  of  the  office  he 
found  a  good  load  of  baskets  and  bundles,  which  he 
carefully  helped  place  in  the  car. 

"  Now  you  need  some  help.  Doctor,'*  he  suggested, 
thoughtfully.  "  Anything  loose  on  the  seat  of  an 
automobile  quickly  gets  jolted  off,  unless  some  one  is 
there  to  hold  on  to  it.  We  shall  be  back  in  an  hour. 
Couldn't  some  of  the  girls  be  spared  that  long?'* 

"  Mebbe  they  could,"  the  doctor  allowed.  "  I  don't 
reckon  it  makes  any  difference  who  ?  "  he  added,  with 
a  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"  It  does  a  little,  Doctor.  This  machine  knows  Miss 
Gladys  pretty  well  and  always  acts  nicely  for  her. 
I've  always  told  you  the  truth,  you  know.  Doctor.  I 
would  prefer  Miss  Gladys." 

"  Very  well.  We  can  be  a  little  extry  joyful  it  bein' 
Christmas,  ye  under stan'  me.  Mebbe  Mary  can  go, 
too." 

But  if  Johnny  imagined  that  everything  was  to  come 
his  way  he  was  disappointed,  for  it  was  sister  Mary 
who  chose  to  sit  with  the  driver.  Perhaps  Mary  felt 
that  this  young  man's  opportunities  already  had  been 
too  favourable. 


172  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

Johnny  thought  that  he  knew  Latham  Centre  with 
great  thoroughness,  but  that  night,  under  the  doctor's 
guidance,  he  became  aware  that  the  Httle  town  was 
rapidly  acquiring  slums  and  holes  such  as  graced  much 
more  advanced  municipalities,  and  such  as  he  had  not 
supposed  could  so  soon  begin  to  fester. 

It  was  very  evident  that  many  needy  families  would 
have  had  little  Christmas  but  for  the  visit  of  the  grey 
car.  Stop  after  stop  did  they  make,  and  at  each  place 
one  or  the  other  of  the  nurses  lightened  the  car  of  a 
basket  or  bundle.  At  last  there  was  only  one  bundle 
and  basket  left. 

"  Them's  to  go  'bout  a  mile  'tother  side  o'  town," 
said  the  doctor.    "  Who  d'ye  reckon  they's  for?  " 

''  Some  one  who  needs  them,  no  doubt,"  replied 
Mary,  talking  over  the  back  of  the  seat. 

"  Yes,  but  ye'd  never  guess  'at  I  found  the  party 
right  in  our  place.  It's  the  family  o'  the  Italian  ye've 
had  workin'  there.  I  asked  him  did  he  have  a  wife  an' 
children,  an'  he  sure  did,  an'  very  much  they  needed 
some  thin'.' 

Johnny  had  turned  the  car  into  a  by-road,  where  the 
travelling  would  have  been  bad,  but  for  the  snow  which 
had  filled  up  its  usual  ruts.  Some  distance  from  the 
road  stood  a  group  of  trees,  and  behind  this  they  found 
a  long,  low  farmhouse,  which  had  evidently  put  its 
good  days  by  long  since.  One  dim  light  burned  in  a 
rear  room,  probably  the  kitchen. 

"  This  is  the  last  place,"  said  the  doctor.  "  I  believe 
I'll  go  in  here  with  ye  an'  git  warm  afore  we  start  back. 
I'm  beginnin'  to  feel  the  chill." 

"  Let's  all  go  in,"  suggested  the  diplomatic  Johnny, 
reaching  back  for  the  basket  and  bundle  which  re- 
mained. 


A    CHRISTMAS    GIFT  173 

A  tired,  disorderly  Italian  woman,  who  had  very 
little  English,  was  doing  her  best  with  two  small  chil- 
dren. Stretched  on  an  old  carpet  in  front  of  the  stove 
lay  three  of  varying  diminutive  degrees,  their  troubles 
swallowed  in  the  great  pacifier.  Recognizing  the  doc- 
tor from  his  previous  visit,  the  woman  looked  up  with 
the  feeble  imitation  of  a  smile.  Johnny  set  the  heavy 
basket  and  package  on  the  table. 

''  Open  it,''  instructed  the  doctor.  "  They's  some- 
thin'  for  every  one,  show  her." 

Gladys,  her  sunny  face  deeply  affected  by  the  misery 
she  saw,  began  eagerly  to  lift  out  the  little  articles 
of  clothing.  The  woman  managed  to  dispose  of  her 
burdens  and  came  eagerly  forward;  but  it  was  not  to 
inspect  the  clothing.  Grasping  the  delicate,  minister- 
ing hands  in  both  of  the  bony  talons  which  formed  so 
strong  a  contrast,  she  covered  them  with  kisses,  as  she 
fell  to  her  knees  and  called  in  tearful  praise  for  the 
blessings  of  all  the  saints  to  descend  upon  the  dear 
angel. 

His  eyes  wet  with  tears,  Johnny  said  a  deep  Amen, 
all  the  emotion  of  his  generous  nature  responding  to 
the  appeal. 

Out  again  in  the  quiet  night,  they  picked  their  way 
back  along  the  path  of  the  gleaming  headlights. 
Johnny  helped  the  old  doctor  to  his  seat  and  tucked 
the  robes  partially  around  him. 

"  Now,  Miss  Mary,"  he  called.  "  It's  your  turn  to 
take  the  place  of  honour,"  and  as  he  held  out  his  hand 
with  his  compelling  smile,  there  seemed  little  else  to 
do.  He  snugly  pushed  the  other  end  of  the  robes 
around  her  and  commanded  them  both  to  sit  well  back 
and  keep  warm. 


174  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

"  And  how  about  me  ?  "  inquired  Gladys. 

"  You  are  young,"  said  Johnny,  cheerfully.  "  You 
can  keep  the  driver  company." 

It  is  surprising  with  what  safety  intimate  conver- 
sation may  be  carried  on  in  the  front  seats  of  an  auto- 
mobile, without  regard  to  those  in  the  rear,  especially 
if  they  also  are  in  conversation.  And  the  safety  is 
still  greater  if  the  chauffeur  inadvertently  opens  the 
muffler.  Johnny  felt  as  securely  private  as  if  the  doc- 
tor and  sister  Mary  had  been  left  with  the  Italian 
woman. 

As  he  started  his  car  he  dropped  a  little  package — a 
very  small  package  indeed — into  the  lap  of  his  com- 
panion. 

"  Your  Christmas  present  from  me,"  he  said,  in 
matter-of-fact,  business-like  voice.  "  Open  it.  You 
can't  see  it  perhaps,  but  you  can  feel  it,  and  you'll  catch 
a  sparkle  even  in  the  dark." 

She  did  not  need  to  open  it.  She  did  not  want  to 
open  it.  Knowing  well  what  it  was,  she  had  no  right 
to  open  it.  But  she  did.  More  than  that,  under  the 
robe,  for  just  one  wee  fraction  of  a  second,  she  slipped 
it  on  her  finger.  But  of  course  Johnny  had  no  way  of 
knowing  that. 

"  It's  very  good  of  you,  Mr.  Langston.  But  I'm  so 
very,  very  sorry.  I'll  have  to  give  it  back,  you  know. 
I  can't  keep  it." 

"  It's  yours.  You've  got  to  keep  it."  The  tone  was 
quite  determined. 

"  I  thought  you  understood,"  she  said,  giving  a 
quick,  anxious  glance  to  the  back  seat,  where  sister 
and  doctor  were  in  quiet  conversation.  "  I  thought 
I  had  made  it  clear  to  you." 

"  You  did.    So  did  my  own  feelings.    So  did  every 


A    CHRISTMAS    GIFT  175 

evidence  in  human  nature.  Everything  has  made  it 
clear  to  me  that  my  claim  is  good." 

"  Mr.  Langston !  Don't  you  know  why  Fve  been 
keeping  out  of  your  way  all  these  weeks  ?  " 

''  I  can  guess.  It's  through  some  mistaken  idea  that 
you  must  offer  yourself  as  a  sacrifice." 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean." 

"  Yes,  you  do.  You  think  that  if  you  keep  Mr. 
Stroud  dangling  after  you " 

"  Mr.  Langston,  you  are  very  rude.  Mr.  Stroud 
has  not  had  a  private  conversation  with  me  since  the 
day  you  interrupted  us." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  and  I  thank  you  for  telling  me. 
That  makes  me  feel  all  the  more  convinced.  What  I 
meant  was  that  as  long  as  Mr.  Stroud  paid  you  atten- 
tions he  would  leave  your  sister  alone  and  she  would 
not  be  compelled  to  tell  him  her  secret." 

"  Mr.  Stroud  does  not  know  that  my  sister  has  a 
secret." 

"  But  he  will  know  very  soon.  Every  one  will  know. 
The  man  to  whom  she  sent  for  a  copy  of  the  will  is 
following  the  matter  up  so  that  he  may  get  his  share 
of  the  reward.  It  will  interest  the  public  for  a  day 
or  so  to  know  of  the  unusual  condition  of  the  will 
and  your  sister's  reluctance  to  fulfil  it,  so  the  news- 
papers will  be  sure  to  make  it  prominent." 

"  Perhaps  you  don't  know,  Mr.  Langston,  that  Mary 
could  not  fulfil  that  condition  even  if  she  so  desired." 

"Why  not?" 

"  You  know  that  the  young  man  Doane  is  the  person 
who  passes  here  as  Doctor  Middane." 

"  I  learned  the  fact  recently." 

"  Well,  he  already  has  a  wife  and  she  is  a  patient 
at  The  Castle." 


116  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

"  What  a  remarkable  coincidence." 

"  It  is  not  exactly  coincidence.  She  came  here  be- 
cause she  had  heard  a  rumour  that  Doane  was  here. 
When  she  went  to  the  place  she  saw  another  doctor 
and  he  put  her  out  because  she  had  no  money.  Mary 
found  her  on  the  street  and  took  her  in.  But  it  was 
only  recently  that  we  learned  that  Doane  and  Middane 
were  the  same.'' 

"  I  suppose  it  never  occurred  to  your  sister  that  she 
might  be  doing  a  great  thing  for  herself  in  taking  in 
this  poor  woman." 

"  No.    How  would  it  do  her  any  good  ?  " 

"  Only  that  if  she  can  prove  this  woman's  mar- 
riage to  Doane  she  thereby  shows  that  the  condition 
named  in  the  will  is  impossible  and  may  be  able  to 
continue  in  the  inheritance  without  regard  to  such  a 
condition." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Langston,  do  you  think  it  may  be  pos- 
sible?" 

"  I  think  there  is  rather  a  possibility." 

"And  may  I  tell  her?" 

"  You  must  do  so  at  the  first  opportunity;  and  if  it 
brings  you  any  good  fortune,  please  don't  forget  the 
willing  slave  who  suggested  it." 

"  Mr.  Langston,  I  am  sure  you  are  a  very  good 
friend  to  us.  I  will  tell  my  sister.  And  now  we  are 
getting  near  home,  you  must  please  take  back  your 
present." 

"  I  will  take  it  back  for  a  little  while,"  Johnny 
agreed.  "  But  if  you  won't  take  it  as  a  Christmas  gift, 
I  warn  you  that  it  will  be  your  valentine." 

And  although  she  protested,  her  protestations  were 
not  overmuch. 


I 


XXVIII 
"  GET  ME  THE  MONEY  " 

IN  these  days  Lawyer  John  C.  Langston  sat  so  often 
at  his  desk,  spending  precious  moments,  greatly  in 
demand  for  legal  purposes,  in  brown  studies 
(possibly  they  should  be  called  golden  studies),  in 
which  prominently  figured  a  nurse  and  her  uniform, 
that  when  he  suddenly  raised  his  eyes,  and  saw  at  his 
desk  just  such  a  uniform,  a  nurse  snugly  encased 
therein,  he  was  inclined  to  pinch  himself  in  an  effort 
to  bring  back  his  scattered  faculties  from  the  land  of 
dreams.  But,  after  all,  it  was  not  the  nurse.  It  was 
her  sister,  Mary. 

"  I  have  called  to  see  you  on  business,  Mr.  Lang- 
ston," she  explained,  after  Johnny  had  courteously 
seated  her.  "  My  sister  has  told  me  the  things  you 
confided  to  her.  You  know  so  much  about  this  mat- 
ter that  I  want  to  tell  you  all,  and  get  the  benefit  of 
your  good  judgment,  which  I  am  sure  will  be  very 
helpful  to  us." 

In  his  business  affairs  the  young  lawyer  always 
preserved  such  dignity  as  became  a  member  of  a 
learned  profession  and  a  representative  of  a  firm  which 
ranked  high  in  that  profession. 

"  My  services  and  those  of  our  firm  are  unreservedly 
at  your  disposal.  Miss  Standlaws.  I  hope  that  I  shall 
advise  you  wisely." 

The  young  lady  entered  upon  her  story  at  once. 

"  I  need  not  tell  you  all  of  the  details  of  this  mat- 

177 


178  THE    CASTLE   OF   CHEER 

ter,  Mr.  Langston.  My  father's  wealth,  it  seems,  was 
accumulated  by  the  manufacture  and  sale  of  the  Oxy- 
juvenator  apparatus.  I  think  he  had  plenty  of  excuse 
for  thinking  that  it  was  of  value  to  purchasers,  for  I 
understand  that  he  had  thousands  of  testimonials  from 
all  manner  of  people.  But  he  was  never  proud  of  it, 
never  talked  about  it  at  home,  and  as  a  matter  of  fact 
I  did  not  know  until  very  recently  just  what  the  busi- 
ness was,  nor  why  he  felt  that  he  owed  restitution. 
Doctor  Doane  or  Middane  has  taken  pains  to  let  me 
know  that  it  was  the  same  Oxyjuvenator  which  he 
still  sells  and  which  Doctor  Goodman  says  is  so  great 
a  fraud." 

"  It  is  undoubtedly  a  fraud,  Miss  Mary,"  Johnny 
assured  her.  *'  The  officials  of  the  State  Board  of 
Health  have  given  it  a  careful  examination  and  state 
that  it  is  nothing  more  than  a  piece  of  metal  pipe 
filled  with  a  mixture  of  sulphur,  sand,  and  charcoal, 
absolutely  inert  and  of  no  more  medical  value  than  the 
rabbit's  foot  which  old  Uncle  Joe  wears  around  his 
neck." 

"  My  father  made  no  excuses  for  himself.  He  had 
been  unhappy  for  years.  A  great  flood  of  light  came 
to  him  at  a  time  of  real  conviction  and  conversion.  I 
was  with  him  as  he  sat  up  late  in  the  night  planning, 
with  the  first  real  happiness  of  many  years,  how  he 
would  make  restoration  to  the  defrauded.  But  that 
night  he  died." 

Tears  filled  her  eyes  as  the  recollection  came  back  to 
her  with  overwhelming  sorrow.  She  bowed  her  head 
on  the  desk  before  her  as  her  grief  overcame  her. 

Johnny,  looking  at  the  stooped  and  gently  shaking 
form,  felt  a  mighty  impulse  to  encircle  it  with  a  strong 
arm  and  declare  that  he  would  smooth  her  difficulties. 


"GET    ME    THE    MONEY"  179 

He  could  somewhat  understand  how  Stroud  might 
fancy  himself  in  love  with  Gladys;  giving  one's  whole 
affection  to  one  sister  established  a  curious  sense  of 
devotion  to  the  other.  But  he  held  himself  firmly  in 
check,  and  in  a  moment  she  drew  herself  erect  and 
wiped  her  eyes,  bravely  smiling  at  her  weakness. 

"  You  must  forgive  me,  Mr.  Langston.  My  father 
was  very  dear  to  me.  His  life  had  its  errors,  but  he 
was  not  the  man  who  could  have  any  happiness  under 
them.  My  first  impulse,  after  the  shock  of  his  death, 
was  a  great  determination  to  devote  my  life  to  the 
work  he  had  planned.  Then  came  the  blow  dealt  by  his 
partner.  I  think  there  was  trickery,  but  it  was  fair 
enough  for  the  courts.  Mr.  Doane  was  able  to  prove 
that  father's  sole  interest  in  their  partnership  was  an 
income  which  ceased  at  his  death;  and  we  were  penni- 
less. I  thought  at  the  time  that  Mr.  Doane  was  deaf 
to  my  arguments,  but  this  will  shows  that  something, 
perhaps  it  was  father's  death,  made  a  strong  impression 
upon  him.  I  suppose  he  made  the  will  during  a  rather 
lingering  illness,  with  the  fear  of  death  upon  him,  and 
reahzing  the  worthlessness  of  his  son,  Henry." 

"  It  was  asking  a  great  deal  to  expect  you  to  marry 
a  son  whom  he  no  longer  trusted." 

"  Perhaps  so,"  she  smiled  faintly.  "  You  must  re- 
member, though,  that  he  thought  he  was  giving  a  great 
deal  and  probably  supposed  I  would  think  it  a  bar- 
gain." 

"  And  all  this  time  you  were  buried  in  France?  " 

"  So  much  so  that  no  word  reached  me  of  his  death. 
When  I  was  obliged  to  give  up  hope  of  carrying  out 
my  father's  plans  I  had  just  one  resolve  that  I  could 
make,  just  one  thing  that  I  could  give.  If  I  could 
bring  nothing  to  the  individuals  who  had  suffered  that 


180  THE    CASTLE   OF   CHEER 

I  mighty  be  wealthy,  I  could  at  least  give  my  whole 
life  to  the  poor  and  the  unfortunate,  and  in  so  doing  I 
hoped  that  it  would  be  counted  in  the  fulfilment  of 
my  father's  purpose.  So  I  and  my  sister  were  in 
France  in  rigid  training.  We  felt  it  best  that  we 
should  cut  off  all  old  associations,  so  we  took  the  name 
of  our  mother — dead  long  before — and  avoided  all  old 
scenes  and  locations.  I  did  not  know  that  Mr.  Doane 
was  dead  until  the  day  that  I  took  the  wife  of  his  son 
into  The  Castle.  She  had  never  been  acknowledged 
as  the  young  man's  wife  and  has  not  seen  him  of  late 
years.  I  supposed  she  must  be  mistaken  when  she  said 
she  had  heard  that  he  was  the  New  Hope  doctor.  And 
then  the  man  came  himself  and,  of  course,  I  knew 
him." 

"What  did  the  woman  say  then?" 

"  She  does  not  know,  even  yet.  She  did  not  do  well 
at  first  and  I  was  afraid  to  let  her  have  any  exciting 
news.    Now  she  is  doing  quite  well." 

"  Miss  Mary,  if  she  is  Doane's  wife,  I  believe  you 
will  yet  be  able  to  use  that  money  as  you  wish.  The 
money  is  yours  at  this  moment.  It  is  willed  to  you 
absolutely.  If  you  do  not  marry  young  Doane  in  the 
three  years  you  are  divested  of  title  and  it  reverts  to 
the  three  trustees.  But  if  we  can  show  the  condition 
named  to  be  impossible  of  performance,  as  we  cer- 
tainly can  if  we  prove  that  he  is  already  married,  the 
title  remains  in  you  and  you  keep  the  estate." 

"  Then  I  can  use  the  money,  until  the  three  years 
are  gone,  regardless  of  the  condition  ?  " 

"  According  to  the  will  it  does  not  become  a  condi- 
tion until  that  time.  You  might  as  well  be  using  that 
money  to-day,  Miss  Mary." 

"  Then  I  think  I  will  lay  claim  at  once  and  use  it 


^'6ET   ME    THE    MONEY '^  181 

while  I  can.  I  do  not  know  that  we  shall  be  able  to 
prove  that  Vance  Doane  is  already  married.  I  thought 
so  until  Christmas  night.  Then  this  woman  came  to 
me — Mrs.  Smith,  we  call  her.  She  has  improved  a 
great  deal  under  the  compression  treatment,  and  begins 
to  regain  the  good  looks  she  had  as  a  stage  beauty. 
She  looked  quite  happy  and  I  felt  glad  to  know  that 
I  had  some  share  in  her  improvement.  She  drew  me 
off  into  the  office,  where  no  one  could  overhear.  '  Miss 
Mary,  I  am  going  to  give  you  a  Christmas  gift,'  she 
said.  *  At  first  I  didn't  intend  you  should  ever  have 
it.  But  youVe  done  so  much  for  me  I  begin  to  feel 
like  a  new  woman.  Living  here  with  all  you  good  peo- 
ple I  want  to  do  a  little  good  myself  and  it  is  in  my 
power  to  give  you  an  enormous  gift — all  that  great 
estate  that  you  supposed  you  could  never  get.  The 
only  thing  standing  in  your  way  is  that  Vance  Doane 
is  already  married.  Miss  Mary,  I  want  to  tell  you 
that  I  never  was  his  wife  at  all— there  never  was  any 
marriage  ceremony ! '  " 

"  Poor  woman !  I  suppose  she  thought  she  did  you 
a  vast  favour,"  commented  Johnny.  "  She  makes  it 
harder  instead  of  easier.  But  we  can  probably  prove 
that  she  is  his  common  law  wife,  and  that  will  answer 
just  as  well." 

"  I  don't  know.  I  don't  want  to  be  unfair  even  to 
Vance  Doane.  But  I  do  know  that  my  father's  pur- 
pose shall  be  carried  out  if  I  can  do  it.  There  are  six 
months  yet  remaining  of  the  three  years,  Mr.  Lang- 
ston.  Try  to  get  me  command  of  the  money  right 
away,  and  let  me  see  what  I  can  do  in  the  six  months." 


XXIX 

■AN  ABSURD  SCHEME 

THE  firm  of  Langston  and  Langston  lost  no  time 
in  putting  into  operation  the  legal  machinery 
required  to  place  Mary  Standlaws  in  posses- 
sion, if  only  temporarily,  of  the  Doane  fortune. 

Johnny  was  greatly  interested  in  knowing  what 
action  this  would  excite  on  the  part  of  Doctor  Mid- 
dane.  It  was  possible  he  would  think  that  Mary  ex- 
pected to  fulfil  all  the  conditions  of  the  will,  even  to 
accepting  the  human  encumbrance.  If  so  he  was  soon 
undeceived,  for  a  letter  which  he  addressed  to  Mary 
received  a  very  cold  though  positive  reply.  A  day  or 
so  later  Johnny  gathered,  in  a  roundabout  way,  quite 
definite  information  as  to  the  course  he  expected  to 
follow. 

The  young  lawyer  sat  late  in  his  office,  lost  in  medi- 
tation. He  was  roused  by  seeing  the  door  in  front  of 
him  swing  gently  open,  and  a  tall  figure,  unrecog- 
nizable in  the  evening  gloom,  step  noiselessly  inside, 
and  turn  with  great  caution  to  slip  the  lock.  Wonder- 
ing, but  not  alarmed,  Johnny  made  a  swift  jump  to  the 
electric-light  switch  and  flooded  the  office  with  a  bril- 
liant glow.  Then,  as  he  recognized  the  intruder,  he 
snapped  off  his  illumination  just  as  quickly,  and 
stretched  out  his  hand  in  greeting. 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  Count.  How  are  they  treating 
you?" 

"  But  once.    But  once  only  do  they  treat  me.    Again, 

I8d 


AN    ABSURD    SCHEME  183 

they  say,  in  ten  days  perhaps,  or  two  weeks  if  I  so 
greatly  need  it.  But  once  for  Luigi  is  more  than 
plenty.  They  perform  not  their  treatment  very  skilful. 
This  injection,  it  is  to  hurt.  Three  days  having  gone, 
it  is  still  of  a  redness  and  of  a  hurt." 

"  Get  your  witnesses,  Luigi.  We  will  sue  'em  for 
malpractice." 

"  Sue !  Is  it  to  sue  ?  Already  they  say  it  is  I  they 
will  sue.  I  sign  the  name  told  me  by  the  honourable 
Signor  to  many  papers,  but  always  they  demand  more 
money.    And  money  I  cannot  give — not  one  soldino." 

"  But  you  gave  them  the  two  hundred  dollars,  of 
course  ?  It  would  never  do  to  miss  the  chance  to  give 
that  back." 

"  My  first  action  handed  it  forward,  with  smile 
most  cordial.  Clearly  they  were  of  a  disappointment. 
*  One  thousand ! '  the  young  man  did  say.  *  You  must 
pay  the  doctor  one  thousand ! '  Most  fortunate  I  speak 
no  English." 

"  They  certainly  believe  in  the  old  maxim,  ^  No 
pay,  no  cure ! '  " 

"  Cure !  Now  I  know  they  cure  not  at  all.  I  come 
to  tell  the  Signor  Johnny  I  desire  not  to  stay.  I  am 
in  fear.  But  yesterday  came  two  of  my  own  people. 
With  the  boss — the  Signor  Doctor — ^they  talk  greatly. 
They  scheme  something  crooked." 

"  Why  should  they  plot  against  you  ?  They  surely 
are  willing  to  wait  a  short  time  until  that  money  from 
Italy  comes." 

"  It  is  not  I  they  would  hurt.  They  think  nothing 
of  me.  As  I  sit  on  the  side  porch  I  hear  them  speaking 
Italian  so  no  person  shall  understand. 

"  They  are  to  do  a  job  for  the  Signor  Doctor — the 
word,  it  is  kidnap.    It  is  a  young  lady." 


184  THE    CASTLE   OF   CHEER 

Johnny  became  very  attentive. 

"  How  much  did  you  hear  ?  Did  they  give  the  young 
lady's  name,  or  say  where  she  lived  ?  " 

Luigi  shook  his  head. 

"  None.  I  listen  hard,  for  I  desire  not  luck  to  the 
Signor  Doctor;  but  nothing  do  I  hear.  Only  it  is  to 
bring  money  enormous — each  man  will  get  so  much  as 
a  year's  wages.  But  first  they  must  do  the  work  and 
they  must  wait  until  the  Signor  Doctor  gets  the  money. 
This  mostly  is  their  talk." 

It  was  a  puzzle  to  Luigi,  but  Johnny  was  able  to 
make  a  very  good  guess  at  the  situation.  Doctor  Mid- 
dane  was  anxious  to  make  Mary  his  wife  for  many 
reasons.  He  probably  thought  that  he  loved  her  and 
he  certainly  loved  the  fortune  which  she  represented. 
He  did  not  consider  his  past  relations  with  Mrs.  Smith 
as  a  barrier.  There  had  been  a  time  when  he  had  won 
Mary's  trust  and  he  was  sufficiently  vain  to  feel  that 
he  could  win  it  again  with  a  good  opportunity.  It  was 
not  likely  that  he  expected  to  obtain  a  marriage  by 
absolute  insistence,  but  he  wanted  the  opportunity  to 
present  his  claim  without  interference.  Therefore  he 
would  have  her  carried  away.  Once  let  his  personality 
overcome  her  reluctance  sufficiently  to  gain  her  con- 
sent to  a  marriage,  even  though  it  lasted  but  for  a  day, 
and  at  least  the  fortune  was  safe. 

These  conclusions  came  quickly  to  his  legal  mind, 
trained  to  fathom  the  motives  of  those  who  sought  by 
devious  processes  to  evade  the  law. 

"  I  think  I  know  what  the  rascals  are  up  to,  Luigi. 
You  cut  back  there  now,  so  the  people  won't  miss  you. 
We  want  you  to  stay  there  for  just  a  few  days." 

"  It  shall  be  as  Signor  Langston  says,"  Luigi  con- 
ceded^ with  a  fine  attempt  at  cheerfulness,    "  This  dog- 


AN    ABSURD    SCHEME  185 

tor  shall  inject  some  more  of  his  stuff  that  did  so  irri- 
tate, if  it  is  so  desired." 

"  Yes,  we  want  you  to  stay  a  few  days,  anyway. 
Perhaps  they  won't  give  you  any  more  treatment  if  you 
don't  remind  them  of  it.  I'll  go  out  to  The  Castle  to- 
night and  tell  them  to  reserve  a  place  for  you  when  you 
come  back." 

It  took  no  very  weighty  reason  to  induce  Johnny  to 
make  the  journey  to  The  Castle.  There  was  a  rea- 
son (not  very  weighty  by  standards  of  avoirdupois) 
always  there,  however,  and  he  hoped  to  see  her  to- 
night, though  his  particular  object  was  to  see  and  take 
counsel  with  his  brother  attorney,  Bissington  Jones,  for 
whose  logical  mind  he  entertained  great  appreciation. 

Strangely  enough,  Bissington  himself  opened  up 
right  on  the  subject. 

"  I've  been  wanting  to  see  you,  Langston,"  said  he. 
"  I  don't  want  to  alarm  any  of  the  good  people  here, 
but  you  are  their  business  man,  and  I  want  you  to 
arrange  in  some  way  to  fire  that  Italian  Miss  Mary 
hired." 

"  Sure  thing.  You  speak  the  word,  the  deed  is  done. 
You  don't  mind  telling  me  just  how  the  rascal  has 
hurt  your  feelings?" 

"  He  hasn't  done  a  thing  to  my  feelings  excepting 
on  general  principles.  The  way  he  puts  up  a  bluff 
about  his  work  would  ulcerate  the  feelings  of  a  blind 
man.    But  it's  something  worse  than  that." 

"  Speak  out,  my  tragic  friend.  Let  me  hear  the 
worst  at  its  baddest." 

"It's  bad  enough,  Langston;  and  I'm  not  joking." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  Excuse  my  levity.  I  grew 
up  that  way.  When  I  was  at  school,  old  Uncle  Jimmy 
ysed  to  say  I  was  a  regular  Leviticus/' 


186  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

"  Your  characteristics  have  suffered  no  great  change. 
But  let  me  tell  you  about  this  fellow.  I  was  out  walk- 
ing yesterday  afternoon,  and,  feeling  pretty  good,  had 
gone  two  or  three  miles.  Coming  back  I  shortened 
things  by  cutting  across  a  pasture.  Just  as  I  reached 
the  main  road  who  should  come  along  but  Miss  Mary. 
I  was  about  to  push  through  the  hedge  and  offer  to 
walk  with  her,  when  I  noticed  a  distressed  look  that 
made  me  conclude  she  would  rather  be  alone.  While 
I  waited  who  should  turn  into  the  road  but " 

"  Hold  on.  I'll  tell  you  who  it  was,*'  interrupted 
Johnny.     "  It  was  the  Italian." 

"  You're  right.  Though  it  isn't  much  of  a  guess 
after  I'd  told  you  I  had  a  complaint  against  him." 

"  That  isn't  why  I  guessed  it,  though.  I've  had 
some  revelations  made  to  me  that  shine  right  into  this 
situation,  and  I  see  I'll  have  to  tell  you  the  whole  story 
and  get  your  advice.    Of  course  it's  just  between  us." 

It  was  not  a  long  story  the  way  Johnny  told  it. 

"  It  makes  it  all  clear,"  agreed  Bissington.  "  This 
man  is  one  of  the  outfit.  I  don't  suppose  he  had  any 
idea  of  doing  anything,  yesterday;  just  wanted  to 
find  her  usual  walks.  They  would  scarcely  be  so 
foolish  as  to  attempt  to  carry  her  off  from  under  our 
noses.     They  plan  to  decoy  her  away  first." 

*'  I  suppose  the  best  thing  is  to  tell  her,  even  if  it 
does  give  her  a  scare.  She  will  then  be  on  her  guard, 
and  can  stay  around  home." 

"  Stroud  knows  all  about  the  situation,"  suggested 
Bissington  as  the  minister  came  into  view;  "let  us 
get  his  opinion  on  the  matter.  I  have  two  or  three 
good  guesses  that  he  will  be  as  much  interested  in 
this  as  any  one." 

Stroud  was  interested,  also  very  angry.    His  wrath 


AN   ABSURD    SCHEME  187 

was  gigantic.  More  and  more  of  late  had  he  made 
up  his  mind  that  here  was  a  pearl  of  great  price;  more 
and  more  had  his  heart  told  his  mind  that  all  his  pos- 
sessions would  not  be  too  much  to  pay  for  her.  He 
knew  well  enough  that  he  was  now  lingering  at  The 
Castle  for  the  benefit  of  other  organs  than  those  con- 
cerned strictly  in  the  process  of  respiration.  He  could 
find  no  words  to  express  his  rage  at  the  impudent  ef- 
frontery of  this  outrageous  quack. 

"  Let  him  try  his  plan  while  I  am  here ! "  he  cried. 
"  From  this  time  she  shall  be  under  my  observation 
every  moment.'' 

"  Won't  make  such  an  awful  change  in  your  daily 
programme,  will  it?"  asked  Bissington,  innocently. 

Stroud  ignored  the  hint. 

"  It  is  absurd  that  a  man  should  contemplate  such 
an  act  in  this  day,"  he  exclaimed. 

"  It  seems  so  to  us,"  agreed  Johnny.  "  But  the 
Italian  citizens  who  dwell  around  the  oil-wells  are  not 
educated  to  our  views.  So  far  as  Middane  is  con- 
cerned he  doesn't  care  about  its  absurdity  if  only  he 
can  get  the  lady  where  she  will  listen  to  reason.  He 
probably  thinks  it  the  only  way  to  keep  millions  of 
dollars  from  slipping  out  of  his  reach.  The  question 
is,  do  we  tell  the  lady  or  do  we  not  ?  " 

"  She  must  be  told,"  Stroud  af^rmed  with  emphasis. 
*'  She  is  a  resourceful,  admirably  balanced  woman, 
one  equal  to  the  greatest  heroism.  I  have  never  met 
one  whom  I  would  more  readily  trust  in  an  emer- 
gency." 

"  Or  even  without  any  emergency,  perhaps,"  sug- 
gested Jones.  "  We  admit  your  views,  Stroud,  but 
the  question  is,  will  she  make  a  fuss  about  it  ?  It  seems 
to  us  a  good  plan  to  let  these  fellows  go  ahead  and 


188  THE    CASTLE    OP   CHEER 

run  themselves  into  a  noose.  If  we  betray  our  knowl- 
edge they  will  simply  deny  everything  and  change  their 
plans." 

"  That  is  true,  no  doubt.  But  she  will  readily  under- 
stand the  necessity  of  following  your  advice.  She  is  a 
remarkably  quick-witted,  clever  woman,  with  a  mind 
in  some  ways  equal  to  that  of  a  man.'' 

"  And  in  other  ways  superior,  no  doubt,"  corrected 
Jones.    "  On  your  advice  we  will  tell  her." 

Mary  was  surprised  and  indignant  as  Stroud  that 
such  an  outrageous  plan  should  be  contemplated,  even 
by  Middane.  Having  more  sense  of  humour,  however, 
it  needed  but  a  short  time  for  her  indignation  to  pass 
into  amusement  as  she  contemplated  the  safeguards 
she  could  summon. 

"  The  poor  man  must  be  going  crazy,"  she  declared. 
"  I  suppose  he  is  so  anxious  about  that  money  that  he 
is  losing  his  mind." 

"  I  can  see  reasons  why  he  may  consider  himself 
justified,"  said  Johnny.  "  I'm  not  so  sure  that  he's 
losing  his  mind." 

"I  wish  he'd  try  to  carry  me  oflf,"  said  Gladys. 
"  It's  awfully  exciting." 

"  Don't  joke  about  it,"  interrupted  Johnny.  "  It  isn't 
as  little  a  matter  as  you  think.  There  are  people 
around  here  who  have  done  such  things  and  can  be 
hired  to  do  them  again.  You  must  not  allow  yourself 
to  be  off  your  guard  for  a  moment.  Miss  Mary.  Mean- 
time we  will  try  to  find  out  more  definitely  what  they 
plan  to  do  and  catch  them  in  their  attempt." 

"  I  shall  not  be  here  very  long,  because  of  course 
I  shall  have  to  go  to  Chicago  to  dispose  of  some  of 
that  fortune.    When  will  it  be,  Mr.  Langston  ?  " 

"  A  very  few  days,  now;  and  since  Middane  knows 


AN    ABSURD    SCHEME  189 

that,  as  well  as  I,  he  will  not  long  delay  his  opera- 
tions." 

"  I  appoint  you  as  my  bodyguard,  Mr.  Jones,"  she 
announced. 

"  I  speak  for  Stroud  to  be  first  lieutenant,"  said 
Bissington,  graciously. 

But  Milton  Stroud  already  had  chosen  his  rank. 


XXX 

WILLING  TO  BE  KIDNAPPED 

WAITING  for  an  explosion  is  thrilling  work, 
even  though  confident  that  you  are  safely 
beyond  the  danger  line.  The  succeeding 
days  of  suspense  were  not  without  anxiety  to  the 
watchers,  for  each  one  realized  that  there  were  cer- 
tain serious  elements  which  put  this  plot  outside  of 
the  realm  of  comic  opera,  no  matter  how  ludicrous 
they  chose  to  regard  it.  They  all  had  expected  imme- 
diate action  and  the  suspense  was  trying. 

The  explanation  of  any  seeming  laxity  lay  in  the 
fact  that  circumstances  lately  transpiring  had  made 
Middane  a  very  busy  man.  His  cure — ^his  serum — 
with  the  "  Made  in  Germany  "  trademark  to  guarantee 
its  high  rank,  had  been  repudiated  by  German  physi- 
cians. One  of  them  (one  whose  name  had  been  used 
perhaps  a  trifle  incautiously)  had  actually  come  all 
the  way  to  America  to  repudiate  any  claim  of  his  in- 
dorsement. The  newspapers  had  volunteered  a  dis- 
turbing lot  of  comment,  very  little  of  which  could  be 
considered  first-class  from  an  advertising  standpoint, 
and  some  of  which  had  really  been  inconsiderate.  It 
became  necessary  for  Doctor  Middane  to  make  fre- 
quent trips  to  headquarters  in  Chicago  and  occasional 
visits  to  his  superiors  in  New  York.  These  things 
made  great  demands  on  his  time  and  necessarily 
hampered  the  fulfilment  of  his  intentions  toward 
Mary. 

190 


WILLING    TO    BE    KIDNAPPED         191 

The  embarrassment  of  Doctor  Middane  was  doubly 
joyous  to  Doc  Williams.  His  genial  kindness  was  not 
impaired  by  the  fact  that  he  could  rejoice  in  the  ex- 
posure of  a  humbug.  But  his  chief  joy  lay  in  the  cir- 
cumstance that  this  exposure  gave  him  a  visit  from  his 
beloved  David.  The  vessel  which  brought  the  great 
German  doctor,  to  expose  the  Hermann  serum,  brought 
also  his  assistant.  Doctor  David  Williams,  who  had 
spent  some  years  with  him  in  his  laboratories,  and, 
being  an  American,  was  just  the  man  he  needed  in  this 
matter.  So  everything  was  joyful  to  the  old  doctor, 
and  the  sky  was  a  little  bluer,  the  snow  a  little  whiter, 
and  the  atmosphere  a  little  lighter  because  David  was 
coming  home. 

Luigi  had  become  very  weary  of  his  stay  at  New 
Hope.  His  money  persistently  failing  to  arrive,  he 
was  beginning  to  be  regarded  by  its  managers  as  a 
very  suspicious  character,  and,  but  for  his  advertising 
value,  which  was  enhanced  as  adverse  criticism  grew, 
would  have  been  expelled  with  ignominy.  '  He  carried 
the  situation  off  in  a  way  that  was  really  admirable, 
but  it  was  with  great  joy  in  his  heart  that  he  saw  its 
approaching  end  and  was  able  to  seek  Lawyer  Lang- 
ston  with  some  definite  news. 

"  It  is  for  to-morrow  that  all  is  to  be  done,"  he  as- 
sured the  young  lawyer. .  "  The  Signor  Doctor  from 
Chicago  arrives  this  morning.  He  desires  hurry.  He 
must  to  Chicago  return  this  very  next  day.  There  are 
reasons  why  he  should  prove  that  he  is  absent  when  this 
work,  it  is  done.  The  men  hired — ^they  do  the  work — 
this  very  next  day." 

Johnny  had  by  no  means  lost  enthusiasm  for  the 
plan  whereby  he  hoped  to  take  the  conspirators  in  the 
act  and  thus  put  a  decisive  end  to  their  plotting.     He 


19^  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

hurried  out  to  The  Castle  to  acquaint  those  interested 
with  the  expected  development.  Before  he  left,  their 
arrangements  were  such  that  it  seemed  hardly  possible 
that  the  Italian  and  his  confederates  could  escape. 
Mary  returned  to  Latham  Centre  with  him  to  arrange 
certain  legal  matters  concerning  the  responsibilities 
which  she  would  so  soon  assume. 

Mary  was  still  absent  when  the  early  evening  threw 
its  shades  about  The  Castle  of  Cheer.  A  message 
for  her,  brought  by  an  Italian,  was  presented  to  Gladys. 
It  was  a  piteous  note  pleading  for  attention  to  a  case,  a 
short  distance  from  the  institution,  to  which  Mary 
had  given  previous  service.  Gladys  would  have  felt  no 
alarm  had  it  not  been  presented  by  an  Italian.  At  once 
her  suspicions  flew  to  the  kidnappers,  and  the  possi- 
bility that  they  were  making  their  attempt  a  day  early. 
She  was  in  great  perplexity.  Mary  being  absent, 
Stroud  and  Jones,  relieved  of  their  charge,  had  gone 
away  for  exercise.  She  knew  not  with  whom  to  con- 
sult. Suddenly  her  thoughts  turned  to  Mrs.  Smith,  the 
only  other  person  in  the  place  who  had  been  taken  into 
their  confidence.    She  was  easily  found. 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Smith,''  she  cried;  "  they  have  come  to 
kidnap  Mary  and  she  is  not  here !  " 

She  thrust  the  note  into  the  woman's  hand  and 
quickly  explained  about  the  Italian  and  her  sus- 
picions. 

''  It  looks  that  way,"  Mrs.  Smith  agreed.  Her  face 
showed  perplexity  for  but  a  moment.  "  It's  an  awful 
pity  to  disappoint  'em,"  she  declared.  "  I  know  what 
we'll  do.  Let  me  take  Mary's  place.  I'd  trade  all  I 
ever  expect  to  own  just  to  see  Vance  Doane  when  he 
finds  out." 

"  It  would  be  funny,"  Gladys  laughed.     "  But  of 


WILLING    TO    BE    KIDNAPPED         193 

course  we  couldn't  do  it.  What  shall  I  tell  this 
Italian?" 

"  Don't  tell  him  anything.  Leave  me  go  fix  myself 
a  little  and  you  get  me  your  sister's  long  coat  and  little 
bonnet  and  they'll  never  know  the  difference." 

"  But  you  couldn't,  Mrs.  Smith !  "  cried  Gladys,  be- 
wildered. "  They  might  hurt  you  and  you  aren't 
strong  enough  to  take  any  chances.'' 

"  Don't  you  believe  I'm  not,  dearie,"  the  lady  as- 
sured her.  "  I'm  just  about  strong  and  well.  I  look 
and  feel  as  well  as  ever.  All's  the  matter  with  me 
is  I'm  just  about  dying  to  get  away  from  this  safe, 
dull,  little  heaven  and  out  into  the  limelight  again. 
Vance  Doane  ain't  so  bad.  I'm  not  afraid  of  him.  I 
just  want  him  to  see  how  I  look  right  now.  You  let 
'em  go  ahead  and  kidnap  me." 

She  had  hurried  Gladys  to  her  room  while  speaking, 
and  already  was  busy  with  her  toilet.  Mrs.  Smith  had 
not  been  a  promising  patient.  Her  condition  had  been 
quite  advanced  and  she  had  not  responded  readily  to 
ordinary  treatment.  As  her  trouble  was  confined  to 
one  side.  Doctor  Goodman  had  put  this  lung  to  rest 
by  the  process  of  compression  with  nitrogen  gas. 
This  had  given  a  good  measure  of  success  and  after 
its  application  she  had  improved  in  temperature  and  in 
weight  and  had  begun  to  renew  some  of  the  good 
looks  which  had  made  her  an  attractive  figure  on  the 
stage.  Now  she  was  quite  willing  to  be  kidnapped. 
She  had  not  seen  the  proposed  kidnapper  for  many 
years,  and  his  last  dealings  with  her  had  been  far  from 
kind.  But  she  did  not  forget  the  period  when  she  had 
exercised  upon  him  an  indisputable  spell.  With  the 
improvement  in  health  she  felt  that  her  charm  had  re- 
turned.    She  had  no  dearer  ambition  than  to  try  its 


194  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

powers  upon  him  once  again.  She  had  a  secret  feeling 
that  it  would  be  quite  irresistible. 

When  Gladys,  still  protesting,  appeared  with  the 
nurse's  coat  and  bonnet,  the  actress  was  ready  to  com- 
plete her  make-up  for  the  greatest  part  she  had  ever 
played.  The  years  of  misery  had  printed  lines  in  her 
face  which  the  make-up  box  indeed  did  well  to  com- 
pensate, but  when  she  stepped  forth,  in  surprisingly 
quick  time,  such  glances  as  one  could  catch  of  the  face, 
hooded  and  veiled  for  more  reasons  than  protection 
from  the  cold,  were  those  of  a  woman  both  radiant  and 
young.  There  was  no  apprehension  in  her  mind.  She 
was  going  to  Vance  Doane,  and  she  had  no  fear  of 
him.  He  had  done  his  best  both  to  kill  her  body  and 
destroy  her  soul,  but  she  was  going  back  to  him,  with 
joy  in  her  heart,  hoping  for  a  fresh  conquest. 

The  one  who  had  misgivings  was  Gladys.  There 
were  many  things  about  this  plan  and  its  secrecy  which 
she  disliked,  now  that  she  had  taken  a  little  thought. 
She  was  not  sure  that  it  was  right  to  send  this  woman 
to^hat  man.  However,  since  he  was,  in  all  truth,  her 
husband,  she  could  afford  to  leave  that  question  to 
their  own  judgment.  But  Mrs.  Smith  was  still  a  pa- 
tient, and  by  no  means  a  cured  one.  Supposing  these 
men  handled  her  roughly  ?  This  Italian,  who  had  been 
working  on  the  place,  knew  Mary  well  enough  so  that 
he  might  detect  the  fraud  in  spite  of  the  veil  and  the 
evening's  dusk.  Supposing  they  hurt  her  in  their 
rage.     Who  would  be  responsible? 

"  Hush,  dearie,"  remonstrated  Mrs.  Smith.  "  Don't 
you  suppose  as  Tm  able  to  take  care  o'  myself.  No 
dago  as  ever  lived  could  put  any  double  cross  on  me; 
and  as  for  Vance  Doane,  I'm  just  burning  up  to  meet 
him." 


WILLING   TO    BE    KIDNAPPED         195 

But  after  she  had  watched  the  couple  walk  off  along 
the  snowy  road,  and  had  strained  her  eyes  after  them 
so  long  as  the  snow  and  a  pale  moon  combined  to 
render  their  figures  visible,  Gladys  was  still  uneasy. 
It  was  all  very  well  for  Mrs.  Smith  to  be  so  willing 
and  even  anxious,  but  that  would  be  no  excuse  to  offer 
the  doctor  and  Mary  to  account  for  an  absent  patient 
next  morning.  Supposing  the  woman  died  of  shock 
and  exposure?  The  very  thought  frightened  the  girl. 
She  would  run  after  them  and  call  them  back.  Snatch- 
ing coat  and  hood  she  ran  quickly  down  the  snowy 
path  to  the  gate,  hoping  to  see  them  at  the  first  turn 
of  the  road.  When  her  hopes  failed  she  ran  on  to  the 
second  turn.  Scarcely  had  she  passed  it  when  she 
ran  into  a  group  just  loading  into  a  double  carriage, 
with  Mrs.  Smith,  fairly  comfortable,  in  the  rear  seat. 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Smith,"  she  gasped,  with  what  little 
breath  remained.  "  You  must  come  back.  It  won't 
do.     I'm  sure  it  won't  do." 

But  Mrs.  Smith  was  not  able  to  reply.  To  avoid 
any  possible  outcries  on  the  road,  the  men  had  sup- 
plemented her  mufiflings  with  swathings  of  their  own 
which  rendered  her  dumb. 

And  since  this  young  lady  was  inclined  to  create  a 
disturbance;  and  since  the  faint  light  of  evening  was 
yet  strong  enough  to  show  very  clearly  that  she  could 
be  nothing  but  an  asset  to  any  one  in  the  business  of 
kidnapping,  their  decision  was  quickly  made.  In  a 
very  brief  time  Gladys  was  trussed  up  on  the  back  seat 
with  Mrs.  Smith. 

Oh,  Mr.  Bissington  Jones  and  also  Mr.  John  Cal- 
houn Langston,  how  true  it  is  that  "  The  best  laid 
schemes  o'  mice  an'  men  gang  aft  a-gley  " ! 


XXXI 
THE  CHASE  OF  THE  RED  TOURING-CAR 

THE  abductors  might  well  congratulate  them- 
selves on  a  neat  job  of  work.  They  had  made 
only  one  rather  serious  mistake — they  had 
failed  to  secure  the  right  person.  It  was  her  absence 
in  fact  that  made  things  so  easy  for  them  and  that 
allowed  their  work  to  remain  undetected  until  the  next 
morning.  Mary  reached  home  so  late  that  she  con- 
cluded that  Gladys,  being  off  duty,  had  gone  early  to 
bed,  so  she  had  no  anxiety  about  her. 

Lawyer  Langston,  coming  early  to  his  office  next 
morning,  found  an  Italian  woman  waiting  at  his  door. 
His  keen  memory  did  not  fail  in  its  duty. 

"  You  are  the  woman  who  lives  on  the  old  Willow 
Grove  place,  south  of  town,  aren't  you  ?  "  He  classi- 
fied her  at  once.  "  You  remember  we  brought  you 
some  stuff  at  Christmas  ?  " 

Yes,  the  woman  remembered.  And  was  it  not  be- 
cause she  remembered,  that  she  now  at  such  great  risk 
was  here  ?  It  was  a  most  astounding  tale  she  managed 
to  communicate  in  her  broken  English.  Her  husband 
was  the  Italian  hired  for  the  extra  odd  jobs  at  The 
Castle.  Last  night  he  had  brought  home  another  man, 
and  two  ladies  whom  they  had  locked  up  in  the  only 
upstairs  room  that  was  in  good  repair.  Her  husband 
had  stated  that  his  part  of  the  job  was  now  complete 
and  had  gone  off  on  the  night  train,  leaving  the  other 
man  in  charge.    In  the  early  morning  comes  from  the 

196 


THE  CHASE  OF  THE  TOURING-CAR     197 

town  a  man  with  an  automobile — red,  so  very  red — 
and  into  the  back  seat  the  two  men  place  the  ladies, 
seat  themselves  in  front,  and  off  they  go  to  some  mys- 
terious city  in  a  northeast  direction.  But  before  they 
went  she  had  seen  the  ladies  in  the  morning  light,  a 
mutual  recognition  had  occurred  between  her  and  the 
fairy  angel,  and  the  angel  had  managed  to  beg  her  to 
tell  Mr.  Langston. 

To  say  that  Johnny  was  amazed  at  such  a  revela- 
tion is  light  language.  He  was  temporarily  paralyzed. 
How  had  these  villains  stolen  such  a  march  on  him? 
The  other  lady  was  Mary,  he  naturally  supposed,  and 
his  anxiety  for  Gladys  was  greatly  tempered  by  the 
thought  that  together  they  could  come  to  no  great 
harm.  This  was  not  touring  weather,  but  the  excep- 
tional packing  of  the  snow  had  made  the  roads  so 
firm  and  level  that  the  grey  car  had  been  kept  in  com- 
mission; only  the  previous  day  had  its  oil  and  fuel  been 
renewed.  He  made  a  mad  rush  to  The  Castle,  all 
speed  regulations  and  records  being  absolutely  shat- 
tered. 

He  found  Mary  there,  to  his  great  surprise,  in  ter- 
rible dismay  at  the  absence  of  Gladys,  which  had  just 
been  discovered.  Mrs.  Smith  had  not  been  missed,  but 
since  the  Italian  woman's  story  called  for  two  ladies 
a  rapid  review  of  the  institution  soon  showed  that 
she  must  be  the  second.  It  was  some  comfort  to 
know  that  the  girl  had  some  one  to  bear  her  company. 

They  could  think  of  but  one  explanation.  The 
kidnappers,  early  at  their  work,  had  seized  Gladys  by 
mistake  for  Mary,  and  Mrs.  Smith  had  attempted 
interference  and  so  been  included  in  the  capture. 
There  was  but  one  thing  to  do,  and  that  thing  Johnny 
felt  very  sure  that  he  could  manage  with  his  favourite 


198  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

gvty  car — overhaul  the  captors  and  rescue  the  cap- 
tives. 

We  have  known  Mary  as  a  woman  of  unusual  char- 
acter and  strength,  but,  like  all  people  of  strength,  she 
had  her  weakness,  and  it  was  her  fairy  sister  Gladys. 
She  was  so  hopelessly  lost  in  woe  that  Johnny  gave  up 
all  thought  of  consoling  her.  Turning  he  saw  the  Rev- 
erend Milton  Stroud,  and  signalled  for  help. 

"  Please  take  Miss  Mary  into  the  office  where  she 
can  be  quiet,  Mr.  Stroud,"  he  asked.  "  I  have  a  few 
arrangements  to  make  and  then  I  intend  to  strike 
trail  after  those  fellows  and  never  give  up  until  I  run 
them  down." 

Milton  Stroud  helped  Mary  to  the  quiet  of  the  office. 
Perhaps  he  was  not  so  embarrassed  as  Johnny.  He 
had  been  a  minister  almost  ten  years.  He  had  com- 
forted many  distressed  persons — both  men  and  women. 
He  had  learned  how  to  link  loving  sympathy  with  in- 
spiration to  courageous  effort.  And  surely  if  ever  his 
heart  had  inclined  him  to  give  comfort  and  consola- 
tion it  urged  him  to  it  now.  And,  with  equal  certainty, 
this  weeping  girl  could  not  in  all  the  world  have  had 
sent  to  her  a  comforter  more  to  her  taste.  They  sat 
in  the  communal  silence  which  needs  no  words  for  its 
interpretation  until  she  was  able  to  look  up  into  his 
face  with  courage  in  her  eyes. 

"  Do  you  think  Mr.  Langston  will  be  able  to  over- 
take them  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Certainly,"  he  assured  her  with  a  confidence  based 
only  on  his  wishes.  "  You  may  be  quite  at  ease  about 
Gladys.  Mrs.  Smith  will  be  a  protection,  and  I  will 
myself  go  with  Mr.  Langston.  I  am  well  and  sound 
now.  I  was  to  leave  this  week,  you  know.  I  will  go 
with  him  and  we  will  find  her,  have  no  fear." 


THE  CHASE  OF  THE  TOURING-CAR     199 

"  You  are  very  good,  Mr.  Stroud.  I  am  afraid  to 
allow  you  to  undertake  a  thing  that  may  involve  such 
hardships  in  this  wintry  weather.  Yet  I  am  so  anxious 
about  Gladys  that  I  dare  not  say  no." 

"  There  is  no  danger  to  me,  Mary  "  (never  before 
had  he  so  addressed  her) ;  "  I  will  do  anything  for 
your  sister  and  you.  I  will  find  her.  And  then,  Mary, 
I  am  coming  back  to  you  for  my  reward.'' 

Perhaps,  at  any  other  time,  she  might  have  been 
strong  to  resist,  but  now,  in  her  weakness  and  her 
sense  of  great  dependence,  to  have  so  strong  a  cham- 
pion and  protector,  was  sweetness  unalloyed.  Surely 
she  could  not  say  him  nay.  The  hand  remained  in 
his  encircling  grasp.  And  as  he  drew  her  close  and 
pressed  a  kiss  upon  her,  it  did  not  meet  unwilling  lips. 

The  door  opened.  They  stepped  hastily  apart  as 
Langston  entered  the  room. 

"  It's  a  beautiful  day,"  he  announced,  after  a  sec- 
ond's embarrassed  silence.  "  Coming  in  here  from  the 
glare  of  the  bright  sun  on  the  snow,  I  can  scarcely  see 
a  thing." 

"  Indeed !  "  said  Stroud,  recovering  himself.  "  I 
suppose  your  pupils  are  not  as  accommodating  as  your 
general  disposition.    Are  you  ready  to  start  ?  " 

"  All  ready.  The  run  will  be  fine.  I'd  like  a  com- 
panion but  I'm  not  going  back  to  town  after  one." 

"  I  am  going  with  you,"  said  Stroud,  confidently. 

"  You!  "  exclaimed  Johnny.    "  Can  you  stand  it?  " 

"  It  will  do  me  good.  I  have  been  trying  my  wings 
for  some  time  past  and  this  was  to  have  been  my  last 
week  here.     Besides,  it  is  my  place  to  go." 

A  faint  colour  overspread  the  pale  face  of  the  nurse 
at  these  words,  but  she  made  no  denial,  and  it  was  not 
until  she  stood  out  on  the  porch  watching  the  car  speed 


200  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

away  with  its  gallant  crew,  that  she  fully  realized  just 
what  Stroud's  proclamation  and  her  silence  had  an- 
nounced. 

"  You  don't  object  to  them,"  said  Johnny,  nodding 
significantly  toward  the  firearms  which  lay  exposed 
in  the  rear  of  the  car. 

"  I  can  fire  off  other  things  than  pulpit  oratory,  if 
needed,"  the  preacher  assured  him,  briefly. 

"  They  have  a  couple  of  hours'  start  of  us,"  said 
Johnny,  ''  but  they  won't  be  able  to  make  our  pace. 
There  are  four  in  their  car,  two  of  them  ladies,  and 
as  they  won't  know  they  are  followed  they  will  prob- 
ably travel  with  care.  We  will  use  just  enough  care 
to  keep  the  car  running  on  four  wheels  most  of  the 
time,  or  anyway  two.  You  don't  mind  having  your 
neck  broken  in  a  good  cause,  do  you  ?  " 

*'  I  can  stand  anything  you  can,"  replied  Stroud. 
"  Perhaps  my  neck  is  a  little  more  precious  now  than 
it  was  earlier  in  the  day." 

"  I  saw  and  heard  enough  to  know  it,"  said  Johnny. 
"  But  it's  for  her  sister,  you  know.  Until  she  is  found 
there  can  be  no  happiness  for  Mary,  consequently  there 
can  be  no  happiness  for  you,  and  Fm  free  to  admit 
there  can  be  no  happiness  for  me." 

"  I  don't  know  just  how  your  happiness  comes  in, 
but  I  can  guess,"  said  Stroud.  "  You  are  rushing 
along  at  a  tremendous  pace  without  any  hesitation. 
How  do  you  know  you  are  on  the  right  road?  " 

"  General  principles."  Johnny  spoke  sharply,  his 
eyes  glued  to  the  road  ahead.  "  Knowing  Middane's 
headquarters,  there  is  little  doubt  but  he  wants  them 
in  Chicago.  They  don't  dare  use  the  train,  so  they 
have  chosen  to  travel  by  automobile.  I  think  I  am  safe 
in  following  the  main  road  for  fifty  or  sixty  miles,  any- 


THE  CHASE  OF  THE  TOURING-CAR     Wl 

way.  When  we  get  near  a  big  town  I  will  begin  to  ask 
questions." 

"How  will  you  identify  them?" 

'*  They  were  foolish  enough  to  choose  a  conspicuous, 
red  car.  Any  one  would  be  likely  to  notice  a  bright- 
red  car  with  two  men  in  front  and  two  women  behind. 
At  this  time  of  year,  when  travel  is  light,  they  are  a 
shining  mark." 

Feeling  sure  that  Lewistown  would  be  avoided, 
Johnny  shot  through  the  little  town  at  a  speed  that 
invited  arrest,  without  any  hesitation.  They  were  in 
the  outskirts  of  a  large  town  before  he  made  his  first 
inquiry.  A  group  of  men  repairing  a  culvert  compelled 
slow  speed.  Yes,  the  men  had  particularly  noticed  just 
such  a  car  with  just  such  a  party.  It  was  at  the  be- 
ginning of  work,  so  it  must  have  been  an  hour  and  a 
quarter  ago.  They  had  asked  about  the  road  out  of 
town,  so  were,  no  doubt,  going  on. 

Johnny  was  disturbed  to  hear  that  they  were  still 
so  far  ahead,  but  when  he  picked  up  their  trail  beyond 
the  town  the  time  had  dropped  to  an  hour.  That 
meant  a  start  of  not  more  than  twenty-five  miles.  He 
ought  to  overhaul  them  in  a  couple  of  hours. 

Alas  for  calculations  dependent  upon  automobile 
traffic.  Next  instant  came  that  wailing,  despairing 
sound,  truly  the  cry  of  an  expiring  spirit,  for  it  is 
the  wail  of  heated,  compressed  air  as  it  rushes  for 
its  liberty  through  an  opening  in  the  encasing  shoe. 
Johnny  stopped.  No  use  skidding  into  a  ditch.  He 
was  out  and  working  like  a  fury,  in  a  minute,  Stroud 
giving  all  the  help  he  could,  but  when  the  damage 
was  repaired  they  knew  they  had  dropped  twenty  min- 
utes; furthermore,  the  need  of  a  new  casing  made 
slower  travel  and  another  stop  for  its  exchange  at  the 


202  THE    CASTLE   OF    CHEER 

next  large  town.  Then,  at  last,  equipped  with  the 
new  tire,  they  were  out  on  the  road  again  and  ready 
for  fast  work. 

Ready,  but  not  able.  An  automobile  travels  so 
rapidly  that  it  easily  passes  into  new  weather  zones; 
travellers  may  not  depend  on  unvarying  weather 
through  a  long  journey.  Scarcely  had  they  got  into 
their  high  speed  when  a  softening  of  the  road  told  of 
danger.  There  had  been  a  slow  rain.  The  snow  still 
lay  underneath,  but  little  puddles  filled  every  depres- 
sion, and  instead  of  their  uniformly  firm  track  came 
long  stretches  of  sludge  spattering  up  in  spite  of  mud- 
guards; occasionally  the  car's  action  at  some  sudden 
twist  in  the  road  would  tell  of  the  danger  of  too  rapid 
motion.  There  was  no  wisdom  in  wrecking  the  car; 
they  were  obliged  to  slacken  speed  and  proceed  cau- 
tiously. There  was  some  consolation  in  knowing  that 
the  car  ahead  (they  learned  that  it  was  still  ahead) 
had  suffered  the  same  handicap. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  they  escaped  from  this 
treacherous  road,  and  found  themselves  once  more  on 
a  well-packed  highway  which  allowed  some  speed.  At 
a  little  town  where  they  gobbled  a  hasty  luncheon  they 
learned  that  the  red  car  had  passed  but  a  short  time 
before.    It  could  not  be  far  ahead. 

''  Now  for  it,"  said  Johnny,  as  he  screwed  in  the 
cap  of  his  oil  reservoir.  "  We  are  still  on  the  road  to 
Chicago,  and  as  they  haven't  stopped  yet,  it  seems 
pretty  sure  they  are  making  for  the  big  city.  We 
must  catch  'em  before  dark  or  they  will  be  swallowed 
up." 

"  But  isn't  there  a  big  risk  that  we  won't  ?  Would 
it  not  be  better  to  defy  publicity,  and  just  wire  the 
police  at  the  next  big  town  to  hold  them  ?  " 


THE  CHASE  OF  THE  TOURING-CAR     SOS 

"  Not  to  my  notion.  If  we  hadn't  wanted  to  keep 
this  from  the  poHce  and  the  pubHc  we  need  never  have 
started  on  the  trip.  Let's  see  it  through  now.  Hold 
on  to  your  teeth.    We're  going." 

Further  conversation  was  wisely  suspended.  The 
speedometer  zigzagged  around  at  all  manner  of  impos- 
sible figures  as  the  car  rocked  and  bounded  on  its 
way,  but  it  was  unobserved  by  the  driver;  he  needed 
both  of  his  eager  eyes  for  the  road.  It  was  well 
built  up,  level,  and  unobstructed,  but  at  any  moment 
a  rock  might  shoot  into  view,  or  some  foolish  ani- 
mal incline  to  the  opinion  that  it  possessed  highway 
rights. 

At  times  the  level  road  would  give  place  to  hum- 
mocky,  half-graded  stretches-,  at  which  Johnny  would 
slow  down,  relax  the  tension  of  his  muscles,  and  in- 
crease that  of  his  thoughts  and  language.  But  as  soon 
as  a  fair  stretch  of  road  appeared  the  speed  increased 
to  its  preferred  furious  rate.  Johnny  had  acquired  a 
deep  respect  for  the  red  car  and  its  driver  by  this  time, 
and  felt  the  necessity  of  using  every  inch  of  good  road 
to  best  advantage. 

A  light  snow  began  to  fall  as  the  afternoon  rushed 
along  and  signs  of  the  early  evening  of  winter  became 
manifest.  It  was  not  enough  to  impede  progress,  but 
it  clouded  the  wind-shield  and  gave  Stroud  employ- 
ment in  clearing  it.  He  was  so  engaged  just  as  they 
topped  a  hill  and  came  into  full  view  of  a  long  stretch 
of  rolling  country,  with  another  big  hill  in  the  far 
distance. 

**  There  they  are,"  he  cried.  '*  It  can't  be  much  more 
than  half  a  mile  away;  just  at  the  top  of  that  next 
hill.  I  can't  tell  the  colour  of  the  car  but  it  fits  the 
description  all  right.    It  is  they.    Be  careful  how  you 


204  THE    CASTLE   OF    CHEER 

go  down  this  hill,  Langston.  We  don't  want  a  break- 
down now." 

But  not  a  sound  came  from  Johnny.  He  was  taking 
desperate  chances  and  every  nerve  was  intent  on  keep- 
ing the  swaying,  rocking  complex  of  animate  ma- 
chinery to  the  lines  of  the  middle  road.  Woe  be  to  the 
animal  that  now  crossed  their  path — woe  be  to  the  car 
should  such  crossing  be  attempted.  Stroud's  half- 
mile  was  a  long  one  on  a  rough  course,  but  it  was 
covered  in  less  than  a  minute.  As  they  topped  the  hill 
they  got  a  glimpse  of  the  red  car  disappearing  over 
the  summit  of  the  next.  Another  burst  of  speed  and 
they  would  be  within  hailing  distance.  There  must  be 
no  slackening,  for  every  moment  the  storm  increased, 
and  every  moment  the  gloom  deepened.  At  the  next 
rise  they  would  be  close  enough  to  demand  surrender. 

But  the  next  rise  showed  only  a  short  stretch  of 
flat  road  and  another  hill,  and  the  next  rise  still  another 
discouraging  view.  And  so  dismay  came  upon  them, 
and  the  snow  thickened  until  even  their  powerful 
electric  headlights  threw  only  a  few  subdued  yellow 
beams  which  scarcely  penetrated  a  car's  length  ahead, 
and  the  dark  of  evening  joined  its  force  to  make  the 
gloom  close  fast  about  them. 

The  red  touring-car  had  won  its  race,  for,  whether 
pushing  on  to  Chicago,  or  whatever  it  was  doing,  it 
was  seen  no  more  by  its  pursuers.  When  an  eventful 
and  exasperating  night's  journey  brought  them  to  the 
city,  in  the  early  morning  hours,  they  had  no  profit  to 
record  for  their  trip,  beyond  two  fleeting  glances  of  a 
possibly  red  automobile,  containing  two  males  and 
two  females. 


XXXII 
DOCTOR  DAVID  IS  JUST  IN  TIME 

HERE  is  a  riddle :  Black  and  white  and  red  all 
over? 
Yes,  of  course  you  know  it.  Every  one 
does.  Its  familiarity  is  the  one  reason  for  producing 
it.  You  like  to  recognize  old  friends  along  the  way, 
and  experience  a  comfortable  sense  of  superiority  in 
your  ready  wit  and  cosmopolitan  knowledge. 

But  here  is  another  riddle:  Why  does  the  public 
so  confidently  accept  as  infallible  the  guidance  of  this 
same  newspaper?  You  do  it  yourself,  though  per- 
haps scarcely  recognizing  the  fact.  A  friend  asks: 
"  What  do  you  think  of  So-and-So  ?  "  You  reply, 
"  I  hardly  know.  I  haven't  looked  at  the  morning 
paper  yet,"  giving  tacit  acknowledgment  of  the  source 
of  most  of  your  knowledge.  "  Is  it  going  to  rain?  " 
asks  your  wife  at  the  breakfast-table.  Your  answer  is 
delayed  while  you  turn  to  the  front  page  and  scan  the 
weather  forecast.  You  may  readily  catch  yourself 
saying:  "  It  seems  from  the  morning's  Tribune  that,'' 
and  many  a  time,  when  the  authority  of  some 
statement  has  been  questioned  have  you  said, 
confidently,  "  I  saw  it  in  the  paper,  only  yester- 
day." 

Why  do  we  so  confidingly  accept  the  reports  and 
decisions  of  the  newspapers? 

Frankly  admitting  that  we  never  were  good  at  rid- 

205 


S06  THE    CASTLE    OF   CHEER 

dies,  we  offer  only  the  suggestion  that  it  may  be  be- 
cause we  do  not  realize  how  small  a  thing  may  turn 
a  newspaper  report  for  good  or  for  evil. 

The  youngest  and  least  important  reporter  on  the 
Tribune  received  from  the  city  editor  a  three-line  slip 
which  announced  that  a  certain  German  professor,  ac- 
companied by  his  assistant,  Doctor  David  Williams, 
had  reached  this  country  on  a  mission  to  expose  the 
greatly  exploited  Hermann  tuberculosis  serum.  His 
instructions,  "  Get  a  story  on  it,"  indicate  the  latitude 
allowed  the  young  man  by  his  distinguished  chief  and 
might  well  lead  us  to  infer  that  the  young  man's  judg- 
ment bore  a  high  place  in  the  editor's  esteem;  but  our 
inference  would  be  in  error.  The  young  man  had  no 
judgment  in  the  matter,  as  his  editor  very  well  knew. 
He  had  a  bright  mind,  superficially  garnished  by  a 
high  school  course  and  one  college  year,  and  he  had  a 
great  faculty  for  looking  things  up;  but  his  judgment 
was  still  a  thing  of  the  future.  His  first  impulse,  on 
reading  the  slip,  was  to  write  something  witty  about 
Dutch  professors,  and,  if  possible,  bring  in  some  refer- 
ence to  beer  and  sauerkraut.  Then  came  his  second 
thought.  A  few  weeks  before,  when  still  young 
enough  to  recognize  his  youth,  he  had  been  advised 
by  a  veteran  that  his  newspaper  education  would  be 
greatly  advanced  by  reading  a  clever  weekly,  edited  by 
a  former  Tribune  man,  the  Latham  Centre  Herald. 
He  had  been  much  entertained  by  the  editorial  com- 
ments on  a  certain  serum  cure.  Perhaps  he  could  turn 
back  to  it  and  get  a  few  pointers,  since  the  Latham 
Centre  Herald  was  one  of  the  exchanges  honoured 
with  a  file. 

Possibly  you  recall  some  of  the  things  said  by  the 
editor  of  the  Latham  Centre  Herald.    He  said  many 


DOCTOR    DAVID    IS    JUST    IN    TIME     207 

more  things  in  issues  of  that  season,  and  the  news- 
paper boy  read  all  of  them.  When  through  he  was 
highly,  though  unconsciously,  tinctured  with  the  views 
of  Doctor  Goodman  as  extracted  and  expressed  by  the 
editor  of  his  home  paper.  Consequently  he  saw  in  the 
coming  of  the  German  Professor  and  Doctor  David 
Williams  an  event  of  great  importance  in  saving  the 
country  from  a  heartless  fraud.  Being  still  young 
enough  to  retain  primitive  principles  he  resolved  that 
the  Tribune  should  deal  this  fraud  a  most  unexpected 
and  obfuscating  blow  (the  more  the  latter  for  being 
the  former). 

It  happened  that  his  stuff  "  caught  on."  The  public 
was  waiting  for  a  new  sensation.  It  saw  it  in  the 
warning  headlines,  "  Wolf  in  Sheep's  Clothing," 
"  Everything  Goes  for  Money,"  ''  Why  Rob  the  Poor 
Lunger?  "  "  Murder  by  a  Medicine  Man,"  and  various 
other  pieces  of  pleasing  artistry  with  which  the  city 
editor,  reaching  a  dull  time,  was  pleased  to  embellish 
and  adorn  the  work  of  his  boy  reporter. 

Doctor  David  Williams,  assistant  to  the  great  Ger- 
man professor,  found  himself  famous  before  he  had 
been  in  his  home  city  overnight.  He  was  lifted  by  a 
wave  of  sentiment  which  had  been  prepared  for  him 
by  his  friends,  Doctor  Goodman  and  Editor  Holmes, 
with  the  clever  assistance  of  the  boy  reporter.  One 
newspaper  having  pulled  the  issue  along  to  a  point  of 
popular  favour,  the  other  papers  were  all  eager  to  get 
hold  of  the  rope,  and  since  David's  superior  was  un- 
fortunately hampered  in  directing  his  intense,  German 
thoughts  into  the  narrow,  intricate  mazes  of  English 
expression,  David  was  compelled  to  be  sole  entertainer 
to  a  squad  of  reporters  of  varying  intelligence  and 
honesty,  which  seemed  to  have  at  least  one  of  its 


208  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

members  ready  to  bob  up  at  any  and  every  time  and 
place. 

It  was  so  when  David  called  at  the  Cook  County 
Hospital;  scarcely  had  the  nice  young  interne,  who  was 
assigned  to  show  him  the  work  of  their  out-patient 
department  and  its  methods  of  caring  for  Chicago's 
tuberculous  poor,  stepped  into  view,  before  there 
also  appeared  another  nice  young  chap,  who  calmly  an- 
nounced that  the  Herald  was  greatly  interested  and 
would  go  with  them. 

The  Herald  man  was  a  very  pleasant  young  fellow, 
years  past  the  cub  stage,  for  the  Herald  editor  had 
seen  possibilities  which  had  made  it  profitable  to  as- 
sign one  of  his  best  men  to  the  story.  When  he  asked 
a  question  there  was  nothing  to  indicate  a  catechism; 
he  used  a  pleasant,  conversational  method  which  it 
would  be  gross  impertinence  to  resent — or  so  his  vic- 
tims felt  until,  seeing  the  matter  in  cold  type,  they 
wondered  how  they  ever  came  to  talk  so  much. 

"  You  are  enjoying  your  trip  to  this  country.  Doctor 
Williams  ? "  the  reporter  ventured  to  assume.  "  I 
suppose  it  is  a  great  pleasure  to  you  to  get  home?  " 

"  It  is,  indeed,"  David  assured  him.  "  I  have  been 
away  several  years,  but  I  have  made  a  visit  home  al- 
most every  year.'* 

"And  your  superior  officer,  the  German  professor? 
Isn't  it  rather  a  costly  thing  for  him  to  come  to  this 
country  just  to  expose  a  fakir?    Pure  altruism,  eh?" 

"  Not  exactly.  He  also  is  enjoying  the  trip.  He  had 
intended  for  many  years  to  pay  us  a  visit;  the  stimulus 
of  this  attempted  fraud  supplied  the  spark.  You 
see  he  feels,  in  some  measure,  responsible.  This  serum, 
imperfect  though  it  be,  is  really  a  child  of  his  own 
brain.     It  originated  in  his  laboratory.     This  man 


DOCTOR    DAVID    IS    JUST    IN    TIME     ^09 

Hermann  was  an  assistant  there,  a  common  rascal  but. 
smart  enough.  He  saw  readily  how  taking  a  thing  the 
professor  had.  He  knew  well  enough  that  it  was  not  a 
success,  but  seeing  how  it  would  catch  the  popular 
fancy,  he  stole  the  idea  and  started  in  to  fool  the 
public." 

"  Why  didn't  he  stay  in  Germany,  and  fool  the  Ger- 
mans?    Why  come  to  this  country?" 

David  laughed  and  his  laughter  was  shared  by  the 
interne;  in  fact  the  Herald  man  joined  in  himself. 

"  You  know  how  ridiculous  a  question  that  is.  Ger- 
many has  plenty  of  quacks  and  victims,  but — well,  I 
remember  when  I  was  a  boy  and  wanted  bait,  there  was 
one  particular  place  where  I  could  get  suckers  in  just 
a  minute,  at  any  time.  Naturally  I  always  went 
there." 

"But  Doctor  Hermann  has  done  a  great  deal  of 
work  that  must  be  strictly  charity.  In  New  York  he 
has  a  laboratory  where  he  treats  poor  people  free  of 
charge,  and  he  has  done  charity  work  at  all  of  the 
hospitals  that  will  admit  him." 

"  You're  a  pretty  good  newspaper  man,"  said  David, 
keenly.  **  Do  you  suppose  such  work  has  any  advertis- 
ing value?" 

"  It  may,"  admitted  the  Herald  man. 

"  You  know  it  has,"  asserted  David.  "  Further- 
more, you  know  that  such  advertising  could  not  be 
bought  with  money." 

"  But  if  his  method  is  a  fake,  isn't  this  public  in- 
vestigation at  hospitals  and  so  on  a  dangerous  thing 
for  him?" 

"  Not  so  bad  as  you  might  think.  He  issues  most  of 
his  own  statistics.  The  public  does  not  discriminate 
between  the  cures  reported  from  his  own  laboratory 


210  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

and  those  from  public  institutions.  But  if  you  will 
keep  watch  you  will  notice  that  all  of  the  alleged  cures 
are  made  at  his  private  place  and  at  one  or  two  remote 
private  hospitals.  The  very  best  report  from  the  public 
hospitals  is  that  several  cases  are  no  worse  and  an  ex- 
ceptional case  seems  really  improved.  There  are  cases 
of  tuberculosis,  all  over  this  country,  improving  this 
very  minute,  with  nothing  at  all  but  God's  free  air. 
and  the  opportunity  to  drink  it  in." 

"  I  suppose  a  person  receiving  free  treatment  would 
be  inclined  to  give  a  favourable  report  as  a^  matter  of 
mere  gratitude  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir ;  also  because  they  want  to  believe  they  are 
better.  And  there  are  ways  of  getting  favourable  re- 
ports entirely  apart  from  either  consideration.  And 
for  every  charity  patient  who  speaks  a  good  word,  this 
man  has  ten  pay  patients  hand  over  the  fee  of  two 
hundred  dollars  for  his  routine  of  ten  injections." 

"  So  you  think  it  is  straight  graft  ?  " 

"  The  worst  kind.  Its  secret  methods  and  formulae, 
which  are  no  great  secret,  for  we  know  what  they 
amounted  to  before  he  stole  them,  are  in  themselves 
condemning.  No  real  doctor  maintains  secrecy  about 
anything  which  he  knows  to  be  of  benefit  to  the  human 
race.  When  a  thing  is  ready  to  try  out  on  the  public 
it  is  ready  to  make  plain  to  the  profession." 

"  But  if  Hermann  honestly  believes  he  has  discov- 
ered a  mighty  cure,  what  is  there  unfair  about  his 
charging  a  hundred  or  two  hundred  or  any  amount  he 
can  get  for  it,  especially  if  he  treats  charity  patients 
free?" 

"  There  is  no  objection  to  his  charging  any  amount 
he  wishes.  His  charges  are  a  matter  between  himself 
and  his  patient.    Our  objection  is  to  his  representing 


DOCTOR    DAVID    IS    JUST    IN    TIME     211 

that  he  charges  this  fee  because  he  has  a  mighty,  in- 
falHble  cure  of  which  he  alone  possesses  the  secret, 
whereas  he  is  really  exploiting  an  unproven  theory  for 
sole  purposes  of  gain.  In  doing  this  he  is  deluding 
and  defrauding  sick  people,  destroying  their  confidence 
in  legitimate  medicine,  and  restraining  them  from  ap- 
proved methods  of  cure  which  might  be  doing  them 
real  service.  If  his  cure  were  a  cure  we  would  have 
nothing  more  to  say." 

"  Well,  he  certainly  has  a  fine  bunch  of  testi- 
monials.'* 

"  I  hope  it  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  tell  a  news- 
paper man  how  testimonials  are  secured,"  remarked 
David,  with  a  grin  of  sarcasm. 

The  newspaper  man  gave  up. 

"  I  just  wanted  to  stir  you  up,"  he  said.  "  I  will 
undertake  to  get  ten  testimonials  a  minute,  for  ten 
hours  in  succession,  for  any  fake  that  was  ever  put 
before  the  public,  for  a  reasonable  remuneration.  This 
man  Middane,  who  is  the  whole  cheese  for  the  Her- 
mann cure  in  this  state,  has  a  fake  called  the  Oxy- 
juvenator  which  presents  a  book  chuck  full  of  honest 
testimonials.  Yet  it  is  even  a  greater  fake  than  the 
serum  cure." 

"  I  know  something  about  Middane,"  said  David. 
"  He  operates  a  place  called  New  Hope,  at  my  old 
home." 

"  He's  a  live  wire,  all  right,"  testified  the  Herald 
man.  "  He  is  picking  up  money  with  a  scoop  scovel 
in  this  little  village,  in  spite  of  what  the  newspapers 
tell  about  him.  I  suppose  he  has  to  divide  his  profits 
with  Hermann,  being  only  an  agent,  but  I'll  venture 
the  guess  that  the  '  laboratory  '  he  runs  here  pays  him 
some  little.     I  don't  know  anything  about  his  *  New 


gia  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

Hope/  I  must  look  it  up.  Lately  he  has  been  here 
most  of  the  time." 

"  I  have  never  met  the  man,"  said  David.  "  But 
from  my  correspondents  I  gather  that  he  is  a  fit  repre- 
sentative of  the  great  Hermann." 

"  He  may  be  at  his  place,  right  now.  It  is  only  a 
block  or  two  away.    Let's  go  look  him  up." 

Their  conversation  had  been  carried  on  as  they  jour- 
neyed in  an  ambulance  motor,  and  they  were  now  in  a 
thickly  settled  district  of  the  city. 

**  No.  I  don't  care  to  meet  him  at  present.  The 
doctor  started  out  with  me  to  show  me  a  tenement  right 
in  your  beautiful  city — in  the  Italian  quarter,  I  believe 
you  said,  Doctor? — from  which  eighteen  cases  of 
tuberculosis  have  been  reported  in  a  single  year.  We 
are  getting  near  there  now  are  we  not,  Doctor?  This 
newspaper  man  should  be  able  to  get  a  story  from  it." 

"  We  shall  be  there  in  a  few  minutes.  It  is  noth- 
ing new  to  the  Herald  people,  I  guess,  but  it  won't  do 
any  harm  for  our  friend  to  come  along." 

"  There's  an  ugly-looking  crowd  around  the  door," 
said  the  newspaper  man,  when  they  stopped.  "  Looks 
like  some  of  our  Camorrist  friends  from  over  the 
water." 

"Don't  be  afraid,  Mr.  Reporter,"  chuckled  the 
young  doctor.  "  You're  safe  for  once.  They  all  know 
the  sign  on  the  ambulance  car.  I  hereby  cast  over  you 
the  mantle  of  my  protection.    Come  on  up." 

The  crowd  of  idlers  readily  gave  way  before  them. 

"  It's  seven  flights  up,"  said  the  ambulance  doctor. 
"  And  the  worst  is  generally  at  the  top.  The  best  way 
is  to  go  right  up  and  work  down  a  floor  at  a  time." 

Six  wearisome  flights  of  stairs  they  mounted  in 
puffing  endeavour,  and  here  the  young  doctor,  who 


DOCTOR    DAVID    IS    JUST    IN    TIME     21S 

was  leading  one  flight  in  advance,  met  a  great  sur- 
prise. Three  dark-browed  sons  of  Italy,  coming  down 
from  the  top,  made  a  violent  rush  at  him;  a  terrible 
discourtesy  and  a  deliberate  insult  to  the  hospital  serv- 
ice. Had  it  not  been  for  the  immediate  advent  of 
Doctor  David  and  the  newspaper  man  a  genuine  need 
for  an  ambulance  might  have  been  recorded,  but  the 
unexpected  reinforcements  made  short  work  of  the  at- 
tack and  bundled  the  attackers  downstairs  in  a  heap. 

The  young  doctor  was  greatly  mortified. 

"  First  time  such  a  thing  happened  in  my  experi- 
ence, I  assure  you,"  he  gasped,  still  breathless.  "  I've 
had  a  few  tumbles  up  with  drunks,  but  never  anything 
of  this  kind.  Bet  they  took  us  for  a  vaccinating  squad; 
always  have  some  trouble  vaccinating." 

The  newspaper  man  was  not  satisfied  with  such  an 
explanation. 

"  Those  fellows  were  full  of  real  fight,"  he  argued. 
"  It's  something  more  than  vaccination.  My  news 
nose  smells  a  story  up  here." 

"  I  don't  see  anything  out  of  the  way  here,"  said  the 
ambulance  doctor,  looking  around  the  passage  and  no- 
ticing the  excited  people  in  the  doorways  who  seemed 
so  uncertain  whether  to  attack  or  encourage  them. 

"  We  will  go  on  up  to  the  top  floor  and  look  there," 
said  David. 

"  People  all  gone.  Too  mucha  seekness.  Not  any- 
body leeve  up  there,"  a  kindly  informant  volunteered. 

"  We'll  soon  see,"  said  David.    "  Come  on  up." 

But  the  corridors  were  deserted  and  the  doors 
locked. 

"Looks  as  if  they  were  right;  everybody  moved," 
said  the  doctor,  after  knocking  on  a  door  and  hearing 
it  give  back  the  desolate  ring  of  an  empty  room.    "  I 


2U  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

have  keys  that  will  fit  almost  any  of  these  places.  I'll 
try  this  door  if  you  like." 

"  Not  for  me.  My  curiosity  doesn't  go  that  far," 
said  David. 

"  Mine  does,"  declared  the  Herald  man.  "  There's 
something  wrong  up  here,  I  tell  you.  Those  men  were 
not  excited  over  nothing.  They'll  be  back  here  with  a 
gang  in  a  few  minutes.  Try  your  keys.  If  they 
won't  work  I  have  some  of  my  own." 

They  worked.  The  door  swung  open  and  disclosed 
a  bare,  empty  room  with  one  single  window  opening 
on  an  air-shaft. 

"  I  don't  wonder  that  it's  empty,"  said  David. 

The  newspaper  man  was  trying  a  side  door. 

"  Where  do  you  think  this  leads  into  ?  "  he  asked  the 
young  ambulance  surgeon. 

"  The  next  apartment,  by  its  looks.  It's  probably 
empty,  too." 

"  We'll  soon  see.  I'm  going  through.  Put  your  ear 
down  here.  Hear  that  noise.  It  isn't  a  cry;  it  isn't  a 
moan;  it's  just  a  mumble.  I've  heard  its  like  before. 
Don't  bother  about  keys,  because  there's  a  bolt  hold- 
ing this.  It  opens  inside.  Two  of  our  shoulders  and 
one  with  his  boot  will  just  about  jab  it  in." 

It  did.  The  door  would  have  fallen  flat  had  it  not 
been  for  David's  restraining  hold  on  the  knob.  And, 
had  it  done  so,  it  undoubtedly  would  have  struck 
two  women — not  Italian  women — American  women 
of  superior  dress  and  appearance,  one  of  them  a  very 
pearl  of  beauty.  They  lay  supine  on  the  floor,  their 
hands  and  feet  bound,  their  mouths  confined  by  curi- 
ously contrived  gags  which  left  them  just  able  to 
mumble. 


XXXIII 
A  FULL  PARDON 

THE  young  interne  and  Doctor  David  sprang 
to  the  relief  of  the  helpless  women.  The  news- 
paper man  ran  through  to  the  front  room  of 
the  apartment,  where  he  opened  the  window  and  yelled 
to  the  driver  below  to  send  up  the  police.  If  these  vil- 
lainous men — his  men  of  the  Black  Hand — were  still 
in  the  building,  or  if  they  should  return  with  reinforce- 
ments, he  wanted  them  captured.  When  he  returned 
the  two  women  were  on  their  feet,  making  futile  little 
dabs  at  their  disordered  clothing. 

"  You  ain't  hurt  a  bit,  are  you,  dearie? ''  the  older 
was  saying  to  the  pretty  one.  "  You  see,"  she  ex- 
plained to  the  men,  "  we  hadn't  been  trussed  up  hardly 
no  time.  We  was  loose  till  they  all  wanted  to  go  away, 
then  they  pickled  us.  We  ain't  hurt  a  mite,  but  you 
just  let  me  get  hands  on  them  dagoes."  Her  expres- 
sion indicated  that  the  dagoes  could  do  themselves  no 
greater  kindness  than  to  remain  absent. 

The  younger  woman  had  no  fierceness  in  her  look; 
instead  there  reigned  a  terrible  distress,  barely  influ- 
enced by  her  grave  effort  at  composure. 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  glad  you  came,"  she  repeated  again 
and  again.  "  It  has  all  been  so  terrible;  and  lying 
there,  bound  hand  and  foot  and  not  knowing  what  to 
expect  was  awful,  no  matter  how  short  the  time.  I 
am  so  glad  you  came." 

"  You  must  thank  this   gentleman,"   said   Doctor 

215 


216  THE    CASTLE   OF   CHEER 

David,  indicating  the  newspaper  man.  "  You  will  feel 
better  after  the  shock  passes.  We  will  take  you  home 
if  you  will  tell  us  where  to  go." 

"  We  want  to  go  back  home,  Doctor.  You  are  Doc- 
tor David  Williams,  Vm  quite  sure,  and  you  will  take 
us  there." 

Doctors  are,  in  a  measure,  public  characters,  and 
are  rather  more  accustomed  than  most  people  to  being 
addressed  familiarly  by  total  strangers.  But  David 
was  surprised,  none  the  less. 

"  You  are  right.  I  am  Doctor  Williams.  But  who 
are  you  and  how  do  you  know  me  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Your  picture  hangs  in  Doctor's  room  all  the  time 
— old  Doctor  Williams,  you  know,  at  The  Castle  of 
Cheer — I  am  Gladys  Standlaws,  one  of  the  nurses,  and 
this  lady  is  a  patient.  We  were  carried  away  by  these 
men,  day  before  yesterday.  You  must  let  her  tell  you 
about  it.    I  am  faint." 

She  scarcely  needed  to  explain  her  condition.  The 
ordeal  had  affected  her  much  more  severely  than  her 
companion,  of  coarser  fibre,  who  had  undergone  noth- 
ing she  had  not  bargained  for,  and  had  experienced  no 
dread  of  the  outcome.  Mrs.  Smith,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  was  feeling  quite  bright  and  very  willing  to, 
talk.  While  the  two  doctors  took  charge  of  Gladys 
and  helped  her  to  safety,  the  newspaper  man  took 
charge  of  Mrs.  Smith  and  helped  himself  to  news.  And 
that  is  why  the  afternoon  newspapers  had  another  sen- 
sation to  offer,  and  why  Johnny  and  Stroud,  reading 
the  same,  did  not  start  back  through  the  snow  to 
Latham  Centre. 

When  Doctor  David  Williams  had  Gladys  safely 
housed  and  bedded,  in  his  own  hotel,  he  sent  to  The 
Castle,    at   her    request,    a    message   partially   true: 


A    FULL    PARDON  217 

"  Gladys  is  safe  and  well.  Would  like  Mary  to  come. 
Am  sending  relief  nurse.'* 

The  message  was  not  the  strict  truth,  for  Gladys 
was  prostrated  from  the  shock,  and  much  in  need  of 
the  loving  sympathy  and  help  of  her  sister.  She  knew 
that  Mary  must  also  have  suffered  greatly,  but  as- 
sumed that  she  would  be  both  able  and  anxious  to  come 
to  her. 

Mary's  distress  of  mind  had  been  terrible  in  the  long 
hours  of  waiting,  but  she  had  borne  up  under  it  as 
might  have  been  expected  from  a  woman  of  great 
strength.  But  when  an  end  came  to  her  suspense,  as 
the  message  was  repeated  to  her  by  Bissington  Jones, 
who  answered  the  telephone,  her  control  gave  way. 

"Oh,  thank  God,''  she  cried.  "Thank  God. 
Thank  God !  "  she  sobbed  almost  hysterically. 

"  We  all  thank  Him,  daughter,"  sympathized  the 
old  doctor.  "  It's  fine  to  thank  Him  now  it's  all  over. 
It  was  finer  that  we  could  thank  Him  yes'day  when 
we  didn't  know  a  thing  'bout  it.  We  can't  go  to 
sister  till  that  arternoon  train.  Put  on  yore  wraps  an' 
come  out  with  Doc,  an'  git  rid  o'  some  o'  yore 
thoughts." 

She  was  glad  to  get  away  from  the  observation  of 
the  patients  and  nurses,  sympathetic  though  it  was. 
The  old  doctor  walked  her  off  toward  his  favourite 
spot — Goodman's  Bluff,  with  its  wonderful  view  of 
hill  and  valley. 

"  A  day  like  this,  snow  everywheres  and  a  wind  at 
yore  back,  is  fine  to  blow  away  heavy  thoughts,"  said 
the  doctor. 

"  I  like  it,"  she  agreed.  "  But  don't  you  think  it 
may  be  too  much  for  you  ?  " 

"  Too  much  for  me !    Ye  don't  know  what  I  c'n  do, 


218  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

daughter.  We'll  go  down  the  Stairsteps  a  piece  an'  git 
out  o'  the  wind.  Then  the  sun  shinin'  on  us'll  make 
it  seem  like  spring.  You  don't  know  'bout  the  Stair- 
steps. Right  here  it  is.  If  ye  know  jest  how,  ye  can 
go  clear  down  into  the  valley  an*  save  miles  o'  road. 
Trifle  resky,  but  me  an'  Elsie  Goodman  done  it  wuss 
weather'n  this,  an'  done  it  arter  dark  at  that." 

"  Why,  Doctor,"  she  exclaimed.  "  What  a  terrible 
risk!" 

"  Yes,  but  it  was  for  Davy,  an'  both  of  us  loved 
Davy.  An'  we  do  yet,  daughter.  That's  why  I'm  goin' 
to  leave  things  with  Doc  Goodman,  an'  go  with  ye 
to  Chicago  this  evenin'.     I  want  to  see  Davy." 

"  How  did  you  help  him  by  going  down  this  ter- 
rible bluff,  Doctor?" 

"  Set  right  down  on  this  stone  that's  been  dried  so 
nice  by  the  sun.  The  wind's  shut  off  now,  ye  see,  an' 
it'll  be  right  comf'ble.  It  was  the  time  Dave  had  the 
diphthery  an'  we  went  down  to  git  Doctor  Goodman 
right  quick.    Set  right  down  an'  I'll  tell  ye  'bout  it." 

"  You  wanted  antitoxin  for  his  diphtheria,"  she 
guessed. 

"  Yes,  I'd  just  woke  up  to  something  daughter.  Doc 
Goodman  was  down  in  the  valley  an'  we'd  no  time 
to  go  round  by  the  road."  He  told  her  the  story  in 
vivid  detail,  up  to  the  time  of  David's  recovery. 

"  How  glad  you  must  always  feel  that  you  were  led 
while  there  was  yet  time,"  she  said. 

"  Yes,  daughter.  I'd  done  my  best,  but  God  showed 
me  'at  my  best  wasn't  good  enough.  Sometimes  He 
has  to  show  us  'at  our  best  is  a  awful  pore  thing, 
daughter." 

"  Yes,  Doctor,  but  you  don't  mind  the  failure  so 
much  when  there  lies  before  you  the  opportunity  to 


A   FULL    PARDON  219 

atone  for  it.  The  terrible  thing  is  when  the  knowledge 
of  your  error  comes  too  late,  when  there  is  no  time 
left  to  make  things  right.  That  was  the  way  with  my 
father,  Doctor.  I  told  you  about  him  when  I  ex- 
plained about  this  money  I  am  claiming.  He  wanted 
to  use  it  to  restore  fourfold  to  the  people  who  had 
given  it;  but  he  was  denied  the  opportunity  .^Doctor, 
I'm  going  to  ask  you  a  question  Fve  thought  over 
many  and  many  a  time  ?  Do  you  think  it  makes  any 
difference  to  him  now?  " 

**  Difference  in  what  way,  daughter  ?  D'ye  mean  is 
he  any  the  less  forgiven  because  he  didn't  have  no  time 
to  try  to  get  square  with  the  world,  ye  understan'  me." 

"  No,  I  couldn't  think  that.  Doctor.  Yet  there  must 
be  a  difference  in  some  way.  The  price  must  be 
paid." 

"  Yes,  the  price  must  be  paid.  Have  ye  mebbe 
thought  ye  could  pay  it  for  him,  daughter?" 

"  Perhaps  not  exactly  that,  Doctor.  I  can  hardly 
analyze  my  ideas.  Father  was  so  joyful  in  planning  to 
pay  back  to  these  poor  people,  that  it  was  a  terrible 
disappointment  to  me  when  I  found  that  it  could  not 
be  done.  It  was  then  that  I  resolved  that  though  I 
had  not  the  wealth  to  seek  out  each  one  and  make  resti- 
tution, I  would  do  what  lay  in  my  power.  I  would 
consecrate  my  whole  life  to  service  to  the  poor  and 
sick  and  destitute." 

"  And  ye  feel  better  for  doing  of  it,  daughter  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  It  seems  so  inadequate.  And  I  have 
so  much  inclination  to  leave  it  and  do  the  things  that 
other  women  do." 

"  Like  gettin'  married  and  things  o'  that  kind?  " 

"  Perhaps !  "  with  the  vision  of  yesterday  in  her 
mind  she  could  hardly  make  a  denial 


^gO  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

"And  why  not,  daughter;  why  not?" 

"  It  would  be  deserting  my  trust.  It  would  be 
leaving  my  work.  It  would  be  giving  up  any  attempt 
to  pay  the  price." 

"  Daughter,  ye  have  some  things  yet  to  learn.  I 
got  some  good  news  for  ye,  gel.  He  paid  the  price 
Himself.  '  His  own  self  bare  our  sins  in  His  own 
body  on  the  tree.'  " 

"  Yes,  Doctor;  "  she  was  trying  to  be  patient  with 
the  old  man.  "Of  course  I  know  about  that.  But 
still  the  penalty  is  there,  you  know." 

"  Sure  I  know  it,  gel.  But  it's  for  Him,  the  penalty 
is." 

"  But  the  restitution,  Doctor.  I  must  make  restitu- 
tion." 

"  You  may  do  what  comes  to  ye.  But  it  ain't  re- 
quired that  ye  live  in  cloud  and  gloom;  it  ain't  asked 
that  yore  innocent  life  be  a  sacrifice  to  things  that's 
paid  for  a' ready,  ye  understan'  me." 

"  Doctor,  you  would  understand  me  better  if  you 
had  ever  felt  the  weight  of  evil  deeds  of  the  past — if 
you  had  ever  done  things  that  cried  for  vengeance 
or  performed  acts  that  demanded  restitution.  I  can 
enter  into  the  feelings  of  my  dear  father  and  the  joy 
with  which  he  planned  to  restore  fourfold  all  that  he 
had  wrongfully  exacted.  But  you  have  lived  your 
quiet  life  untouched  by  real  sin.  You  have  never  been 
out  of  harmony  with  God." 

The  old  man  did  not  reply.  He  was  looking  away 
off  into  the  pleasant  valley.  Wondrous  things  lay  be- 
fore his  vision,  but  the  intent  eyes  saw  none  of  them. 
He  was  casting  his  gaze  inward,  back  into  the  years  of 
long  ago,  back  to  the  time  when  the  locks  now  white 
had   shone  with  the  glint  and   colour  of   youthful 


A    FULL    PARDON  £21 

vigour,  back  to  the  days  when  his  dealings  with  his 
God  had  been  those  of  the  man  who  beUeves  in  a 
Creator  only  because  there  must  be  some  explanation 
of  this  virile  life  that  animates  his  form;  back  to  the 
days  of  turbulence  and  passion  and  lust  and  hate  and 
murder  and  penalty  and  pardon.  Back  went  his 
thoughts  as  they  had  not  travelled  in  many  years. 

"  Daughter !  "  The  voice  that  broke  the  stillness 
caused  Mary  to  look  into  the  doctor's  face  with  a  pas- 
sion of  interest,  so  full  was  it  of  sympathy  and  pain. 

"  Daughter,  Fm  goin'  to  tell  ye  somethin'  nobody 
else  knows  since  a  few  years  gone  when  I  laid  Aunt 
Mercy  away — not  even  Davy  knows.  The  man  ye  sit 
with  in  this  pleasant  sunshine  this  mornin'  sat  on  jest 
such  a  mornin'  some  fifty  year  ago,  lookin'  out  on 
some  such  a  peaceful  scene,  miles  an'  miles  away  f 'm 
here.  But  a  smokin'  gun  lay  at  his  hand,  daughter, 
an'  down  there  in  the  bushes,  away  below,  was  every- 
thing that  makes  another  strong,  active  man  'ceptin' 
the  soul  this  murderer  had  released.  Dead,  daughter, 
dead !  Oh,  God  in  Heaven,  he  could  never  come  back ! 
Nothin'  I  could  do  would  bring  him  back !  Takin'  my 
own  life,  as  I  wanted  to  now  that  my  lust  of  passion 
was  gone,  wouldn't  bring  him  back !  Sayin'  as  he  had 
deserved  it  wouldn't  bring  him  back!  Thinkin'  it 
was  him  or  me  wouldn't  bring  him  back.  He  was 
gone,  an'  that  wonderful,  vig'rous  frame  was  lyin' 
there  to  stiffen  an'  grow  cold  an'  useless  with  its 
work  undone  an'  its  poss'bilities  forever  cut  off. 
Dead! 

"  An'  they  put  the  murderer  in  jail,  daughter,  where 
he  belonged.  An'  there  he  had  many  a  hour  to  think 
that  the  minute  of  passion  had  killed  the  body  o'  one 
man'  an'  the  souls  of  two,  an'  to  suppose  that  there'd 


222  THE    CASTLE   OF    CHEER 

never  be  no  more  sunlight,  never  be  no  more  flowers, 
no  more  singing  birds,  no  more  hot  suns  o'  summer,  no 
more  keen  winds  o'  fall,  no  more  pure  white  snow,  no 
more  seedtime  an'  harvest  an'  holiday  rejoicin',  no 
more  comfortin'  the  sick  or  restin'  the  weary.  For 
the  man  was  dead! 

"  An'  then  people  whose  hearts  was  softer  'n  their 
hands  gets  together  an'  tells  the  Governor  some  o'  the 
things  'at  they  knowed  right  well  wasn't  no  real  ex- 
cuse. But  there  come  a  day  when  one  of  'em  comes 
to  me  in  the  prison  an'  says :  *  Doc,  yo're  a  free  man. 
The  Governor's  sent  ye  a  pardon ! ' 

"  Daughter,  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  try  to  tell  ye  all  I 
thought  an'  all  I  said,  but  them  words  went  a-ringin'  in 
my  ears  for  days  an'  weeks  an'  months,  an'  I  can  hear 
'em  yet :  '  The  Governor's  sent  ye  a  pardon.' 

"  So  I  went  back  to  what  Fd  ben  doin' — ^here  a  little 
doctorin',  an'  there  a  little  o'  one  thing  an'  another,  ye 
understan'  me.  An'  evybuddy  treated  me  white  an' 
I  done  what  I  could  for  the  man's  folks,  but,  arter  all, 
the  birds  wasn't  singin'  yet,  an'  the  smell  of  the  new- 
turned  earth  didn't  find  me,  an'  the  flowers  hadn't  the 
colour  of  old,  an'  all  the  time  the  thought  went  along 
of  me : '  The  man's  dead.  No  Governor's  pardon  can't 
bring  him  to  life.' 

"An'  it  went  on  for  a  many  months  an'  into  the 
years,  an'  then  come  the  time  when  the  old  circuit 
rider  bruk  his  laig  an'  I  fixed  him  the  best  I  knew  so 
he  got  along  jes'  tollable,  an'  when  he  went  he  says, 
'  Doc,  I  ain't  got  no  money  but  such  as  I  have  give  I 
unto  thee.    This  little  book  is  the  Way  of  Life.' 

"  Daughter,  d'ye  know  I  wouldn't  read  it  for  weeks, 
an'  the  Lord  had  to  lay  me  on  my  back  with  a  long 
spell  o'  sickness.    But  it  come  at  last.    I  learned  what 


A    FULL    PARDON  223 

was  in  it.  It  didn't  have  only  a  pardon  for  me,  daugh- 
ter, it  had  a  whole  lot  more'n  that.  The  Governor, 
he'd  pardoned  me,  but  it  left  me  all  crippled  an'  not 
able  to  take  up  life  where  I'd  left  it  because  the  man 
could  never  come  back.  Then  at  last  come  the  pardon 
f 'm  the  only  one  who  has  any  real  pardons  to  give  an' 
I  was  pardoned,  redeemed,  an'  made  over  new.  I 
couldn't  soar  on  the  old  wings,  daughter,  but  God  give 
me  new  wings  of  faith  that  didn't  have  no  scar  on  'em 
nor  no  earthly  marring.  Then  He  says  to  me,  *  Soar 
on  these  wings.  Don't  try  to  fly  fer  yore  pore  mis'able 
self,  but  fly  for  me.  Rise  now  to  the  high  places  'at 
ye've  never  dared  s'  much  as  lift  yore  eyes  up  to.' 

"  Daughter,  with  a  redemption  so  powerful,  a  par- 
don so  free,  an'  a  Redeemer  so  great,  it's  limitin'  His 
love  to  say  ye  got  to  live  a  life*  of  restitution  for  a 
man  dead  an'  gone.  Don't  ye  never  think  'at  he's  any 
less  happy  up  there  in  the  great  beyond.  Don't  think 
'at  he's  any  less  forgiven.  Pay  his  debts  if  ye  git  the 
money — ^all  of  'em,  every  one  of  'em— but  don't  try  to 
carry  his  burdens,  for  long  ago  he  laid  them  on  his 
Lord. 

"  Does  the  old  man  know  how  'tis,  daughter?  Can 
he.understan',  d'ye  think?  Is  he  able  to  tell  ye  what 
to  do?  Ah,  gel,  it's  them  that's  sinned  that  knows 
what  mercy  means.  It's  them  that's  been  forgiven 
much  that  learns  to  love  much." 


.     XXXIV 
MISS  JOLLEY  WANTS  HER  MONEY  BACK 

MARY  and  the  old  doctor,  hurrying  to  Chicago 
on  the  overland  express,  might  well  feel  that 
they  were  on  their  way  to  a  reunion.  Events 
had  strangely  coincided  to  gather  many  of  their  inti- 
mate group  in  Chicago  at  this  time,  and  it  might  be 
said  that  Doctor  Middane  was  the  key  to  it  all.  In  the 
first  place,  in  order  to  be  near  his  ''  laboratory,"  he 
had  moved  himself  to  Chicago.  Then  his  objectionable 
and  false  representations  had  brought  Doctor  David 
Williams  with  his  German  professor  to  Chicago;  his 
kidnapping  outrage  had  brought  Mrs.  Smith  and 
Gladys;  the  resulting  pursuit  had  brought  Mr.  Stroud 
and  Johnny;  and  the  relief  of  Gladys  was  bringing 
Mary  and  the  doctor.  One  other  humble  friend  was 
already  in  the  city.  This  was  Miss  Jolley,  who  had 
been  dismissed  from  The  Castle  as  "  improved "  a 
short  time  before. 

Miss  Jolley  knew  quite  well  that  she  was  not  cured. 
Doctor  Goodman  and  his  colleagues  had  taken  great 
pains  to  impress  upon  her  that  although  she  was  al- 
lowed to  leave  The  Castle  it  was  merely  as  one  in 
whom  the  disease  was  "  arrested."  It  was  her  business 
to  see  that  it  did  not  escape  from  arrest.  Knowing  the 
situation  Miss  Jolley  took  her  place  in  the  humble 
household  of  which  she  formed  a  cheery  part  with 
great  circumspection. 

Chicago  is  not  generally  classified  as  a  health  resort 

224 


MISS    JOLLEY    WANTS    HER    MONEY 

but  no  large  city  offers  better  opportunities  for  the 
continued  improvement  and  final  recovery  of  patients 
of  Miss  Jolley's  class  who  make  an  honest  effort.  This 
is  because  of  its  splendid  dispensary  system,  available 
to  the  poorest  citizen,  which  not  only  offers  care  and 
help  to  the  desperate  case,  but  continues  its  supervision 
when  the  patient  has  again  taken  up  life's  journey.  Of 
this  help  Miss  JoUey  availed  herself  with  her  cus- 
tomary cheerful  independence. 

One  of  the  things  impressed  upon  the  little  lady  was 
the  necessity  for  a  great  amount  of  rest  and  the  con- 
tinuation of  open-air  sleeping.  This  might  well  have 
seemed  an  impossibility  to  the  uninitiated,  for  the 
Chicago  residence  of  Miss  Jolley  was  one  of  a  row  of 
dingy  brick  buildings  constructed  on  the  "  straight 
front  "  principle  and  equally  straight  in  the  back.  The 
one  single  way  in  which  the  Jolley  house  differed  from 
its  partners  was  in  the  possession  of  a  very  slender 
ledge  which  projected  above  the  front  of  the  store — 
said  store  being  the  medium  through  which  the  Jolley 
family  was  provided  with  a  living  by  the  brother  who 
was  its  head.  Using  this  slender  ledge  for  a  base  the 
dispensary  people  rigged  up  for  Miss  Jolley  creditable 
outdoor  sleeping  quarters.  It  was  agreed  that  the  rear 
of  the  house  would  have  been  far  preferable  but  un- 
fortunately the  Jolleys  were  unable  to  dispute  the 
undoubted  right  of  another  family  to  the  rear 
premises. 

The  new  arrangement  was  not  entirely  agreeable  to 
Miss  Jolley  though  she  accepted  it  with  great  merri- 
ment. Her  sleeping  out  at  the  sanatorium  had  been 
provided  for  by  a  clever  arrangement  which  allowed 
her  bed  preparations  all  to  be  made  in  a  warm  room 
and  she  met  the  frosty  air  only  when  snugly  bedded  in 


226  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

a  way  which  bade  defiance  to  cold.  To  make  some- 
what similar  provision  here  required  the  purchase  of 
a  special  couch  and  certain  changes  in  the  construc- 
tion of  her  windows,  all  of  which  demanded  more 
money  than  she  possessed.  Her  bed  was  now  left  out 
in  the  cold  the  whole  long  winter  day.  The  night  air 
was  both  brisk  and  keen  and  when  the  wind  blew  it 
seemed  that  she  dwelt  in  a  house  of  cards  ready  to 
tumble  at  the  very  next  blast.  Nevertheless  Miss  Jol- 
ley  persevered  in  doing  all  the  things  that  were  pre- 
scribed for  her  to  do,  for  she  was  a  loyal  little  soul,  and 
having  been  brought  thus  far  on  the  road  to  health 
admitted  no  possibility  of  a  setback. 

It  was  while  lying  in  her  open  quarters  in  the  early 
morning  that  her  brother  threw  the  morning  paper  in 
to  her.  This  was  his  custom,  for  he  insisted  that  since 
she  was  to  take  much  rest  in  the  fresh  air  she  should 
stay  late  in  bed  each  morning.  So  it  came  that  Miss 
Jolley  read  the  newspaper  story  of  the  kidnapping  and 
thus  became  acquainted  with  the  important  event. 

It  was  indeed  spicy  news.  The  writer  had  taken  full 
advantage  of  Mrs.  Smith's  gratitude  and  volubility. 
She  had  known  a  great  many  things,  the  reporter  had 
known  a  great  many  things;  what  he  had  not  known 
he  had  guessed,  and  as  a  joint  result  the  newspaper 
presented  for  public  consideration  several  spicy  prob- 
lems. It  brought  back  the  old  story  of  the  Doane  es- 
tate— of  the  eccentric  will — of  the  missing  heiress.  It 
revealed  the  fact  that  Henry  Vancil  Doane  and  the 
quack  Middane  were  one  and  the  same.  It  congratu- 
lated Doane  that  he  no  longer  was  in  demand  for  the 
little  trouble  that  caused  him  to  change  his  name.  It 
wondered  if  the  millions  of  dollars  would  reconcile  the 
lady  to  the  man  who  had  to  go  with  it.    It  volunteered 


MISS    JOLLEY    WANTS    HER    MONEY     227 

an  opinion  that  she  did  not  have  to  take  him,  and  fur- 
thermore that  she  could  not,  for  the  reason  that  his 
relations  with  Mrs.  Smith  were  such  that  another 
nuptial  knot  would  serve  only  to  tie  him  up  in  diffi- 
culties.   It  related  a  good  deal  of  his  private  history. 

It  gave  half  a  column  to  the  Oxyjuvenator  also.  It 
told  how  it  was  formerly  manufactured  in  Chicago 
and  sold  extensively  and  how  its  manufacture,  and  to 
some  extent,  its  sale  had  been  illegally  conducted  by 
Middane  from  his  place  of  ''  New  Hope  "  since  the 
control  of  the  estate  and  business  had  passed  from  his 
hands  at  his  father's  death.  It  then  told  about  the  ex- 
posure by  the  State  Board  of  Health  which  had  shown 
the  true  value  of  the  apparatus,  all  of  which  was  of 
tremendous  interest  to  Miss  Jolley,  for  she  herself  had 
been  a  victim. 

The  newspaper  did  not  slight  the  episode  of  the 
chase  by  Johnny  Langston,  and  by  no  means  did  it 
omit  mention  of  the  Reverend  Milton  Stroud,  any 
reference  to  whose  name  was  always  a  good  item  in  the 
city  in  which  he  was  so  popular.  Mrs.  Smith  had 
evidently  made  some  very  definite  statements  to  the 
reporter,  for  he  announced  boldly  that  Mr.  Langston 
was  engaged  to  the  kidnapped  girl,  and  just  as  boldly 
that  the  activity  of  Mr.  Stroud  was  because  of  a  simi- 
lar relation  with  the  sister  of  the  young  lady,  the 
head  nurse  of  the  institution  at  which  he  had  been  seek- 
ing his  health. 

Miss  Jolley  did  not  know  that  these  announcements 
were  premature,  and  read  them  with  great  pleasure. 
Her  particular  interest,  however,  was  in  another  mat- 
ter. She  lost  no  time  in  appearing  at  the  breakfast 
table. 

"  That  man  Doane's  the  doctor  I  saw  once  when  I 


ns  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

was  at  The  Castle,  I  guarantee/'  she  assured  her 
brother.  "  The  paper  says  his  place  is  only  about  five 
blocks  from  here." 

"  I  know  the  place,"  replied  her  brother.  "  What 
about  it?" 

"  I'm  going  to  see  him.  That's  what  about  it.  I'll 
go  see  him  this  very  morning." 

"What's  the  hurry?  Why  do  you  want  to  see 
him?" 

"  I  want  thirty  dollars  to  fix  my  bed  and  I  want 
it  quick.  Don't  you  remember  I  bought  one  o'  them 
Oxyjuvenator  things  before  I  went  to  The  Castle?  " 

"  Yes.  It  didn't  do  you  any  good,  either.  But 
that's  no  sign  you'll  get  your  money  back." 

"  Well,  now,  I  guarantee  I  will.  The  paper  says 
the  thing  never  was  worth  as  much  as  a  black  cat's 
shadow.  I'm  going  to  see  that  man  an'  get  back  my 
money  an'  tell  him  just  what  I  think.  Honest  to  good- 
ness, I  am." 

She  was  fortunate  in  her  choice  of  time,  for  she 
met  the  celebrated  doctor  just  as  he  descended  the 
steps  of  his  building  and  recognized  him  without  diffi- 
culty. 

"  Stop  a  minute.  Doctor,"  she  directed.  "  Perhaps 
you  remember  me." 

"  I  fear  that  I  haven't  the  pleasure,"  said  the  wily 
doctor,  attempting  to  pass.  "  There's  a  clerk  in  the 
office  will  see  you.    I  must  hurry  on." 

"  Not  this  time,  I  guarantee,"  insisted  the  little 
lady.  "  The  last  time  we  met  was  at  Latham  Centre. 
Do  you  remember  ?  " 

"  You  were  not  a  patient,  surely,"  said  the  doctor. 
"  You  look  perfectly  well." 

"  I  am  pretty  well.     I  got  well  at  The  Castle  of 


Miss    JOLLEY    WANTS    HER   MONEY     229 

Cheer.  Before  that  you  undertook  to  make  me  well 
with  a  piece  of  apparatus  that  you  sold  me  for  thirty 
dollars." 

"  It  probably  did  more  for  you  than  you  credit," 
said  the  doctor.  "You  bought  it;  you  used  it;  you 
are  now  well.    Doesn't  it  seem  logical  ?  '* 

"  No,  because  I  got  worse  steady  as  long  as  I  de- 
pended on  it.  But  I  never  knew,  till  I  read  it  in  the 
paper  this  morning,  that  it  was  nothing  but  a  piece  of 
gas-pipe  and  a  little  charcoal.  That's  just  a  plain 
swindle." 

"  My  dear  lady,  you  must  not  believe  all  that  you 
read  in  the  papers." 

"  I  told  you  once  before  not  to  '  dear  lady '  me. 
I'm  little,  but  there's  some  things  I  won't  stand.  I 
want  my  money  back  now." 

"If  you  think  you  have  a  claim  go  in  and  see  my 
clerk.    I  must  be  going." 

"  I'll  go  with  you  while  we  talk  it  over,"  said  Miss 
Jolley.     "  I  prefer  to  do  my  business  direct." 

"  I've  no  time  for  you."  Doctor  Middane  was  los- 
ing his  polish.    "  Don't  be  foolish." 

"  I'm  not — now.  I  was  when  I  swallowed  your 
hook.  I'm  not  even  foolish  enough  to  think  that  you 
have  any  idea  of  being  square.  I'm  mad  clear  through 
now,  and  I  tell  you  that  you're  just  a  common 
cheat." 

"  Sorry  to  have  your  bad  opinion,"  he  sneered. 

"  You'll  be  more  than  sorry  some  day,"  Miss  Jolley 
assured  him.  "  Just  now  you're  doing  all  the  no- 
account,  low-down  tricks  that  your  miserable  soul 
thinks  of.  But  your  time's  coming,  young  man. 
There'll  be  an  end  to  you  and  your  tricks.  And  I 
guarantee  you  won't  have  stayed  over  night  in  the 


230  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

place  you're  headed  for  before  you'll  be  sorrier  than 
you  ever  expected  to  be.     Honest,  you  will!  " 

"If  it's  as  bad  as  that  you  ought  to  have  pity  on 
me,"  said  he. 

"  You're  right,"  Miss  Jolley  agreed.  "  I'll  pray  for 
you." 


XXXV 
MRS.  SMITH  PRESCRIBES  FOR  HERSELF 

GREAT  as  was  the  interest  of  Miss  Jolley  in  the 
newspapers  of  that  issue,  it  was  far  surpassed 
by  that  of  Doctor  Middane.  There  were  a 
number  of  points  of  discussion  very  vital  to  the  doc- 
tor. He  did  not  greatly  fear  any  menace  to  his  per- 
sonal safety  no  matter  what  they  might  say.  No  one 
could  definitely  connect  him  with  the  abduction.  His 
Italian  agents  had  promptly  disappeared,  and  it  would 
require  a  very  smart  person  to  locate  them.  But  he 
was  greatly  chagrined  and  disappointed  to  find  how 
his  plans  had  miscarried.  The  news  of  the  substitu- 
tion of  Mrs.  Smith  for  Mary  came  to  him  with  an 
unpleasant  shock.  He  had  hoped  the  woman  long 
since  dead  of  her  disease;  he  knew  that  she  could 
stand  more  or  less  in  the  way  of  his  amorous  and  finan- 
cial schemes,  and  he  was  distinctly  disappointed  that 
she  should  have  come  to  life.  Doctor  Middane  was 
still  anxious  to  get  Mary,  but  he  was  far  more  anxious 
to  get  the  fortune. 

A  few  million  dollars  is  not  accounted  a  great  for- 
tune in  Chicago,  where  men  still  make  that  much  be- 
tween the  rising  and  the  setting  of  the  sun.  But 
it  presented  a  very  dazzling  radiance  to  Doctor  Mid- 
dane, whose  ways  of  making  money,  though  easy,  had 
not  been  exactly  like  finding  it. 

He  had  made  some  money  on  his  outfits:  namely 
and  to-wit,  about  twenty-nine  dollars  and  seventy-five 

m 


THE    CASTLE   OF    CHEER 

cents  on  each  outfit  retailing  at  thirty  dollars,  and 
there  had  been  a  goodly  number  of  the  credulous  who 
had  contributed  to  his  wealth  without  a  struggle.  It 
must  be  admitted,  however,  that  not  all  of  his  "  pros- 
pects "  had  been  as  confiding  as  seemed  desirable. 
Many  had  ignored  the  first  offer,  and  often  it  had 
been  necessary  to  send  five  or  six  letters,  each  of  them 
entailing  postage  expense,  and  perhaps,  finally,  to  re- 
duce the  price  of  the  article  so  low  as  to  leave  little 
more  than  two  thousand  per  cent,  profit. 

There  had  been  much  the  same  disappointments  in 
his  New  Hope  sanatorium.  It  was  not  all  profit,  by 
any  means.  He  was  careful  to  charge  two  hundred 
dollars  for  injecting  his  serum,  and  to  add  to  that 
regular  prices  for  board  and  room  of  such  patients 
as  stayed  at  his  institution.  But,  once  in  a  while  there 
were  provoking  people  who  led  him  to  think  them 
able  to  pay  and  then  robbed  him  of  his  revenue. 
There  was  that  Italian  count  for  instance — ^but  it  is  no 
good  enumerating  his  troubles;  the  fact  remained  that 
this  fortune  presented  as  bright  an  outlook  as  any- 
thing in  his  range  of  vision,  and  he  intended  to  do  his 
best  to  make  sure  of  it. 

Since  he  was  not  yet  ready  to  drop  his  medical  prac- 
tices, the  doctor  was  not  at  all  pleased  by  the  news- 
paper comments  upon  his  various  enterprises,  although 
it  may  also  be  said  that  he  was  not  so  very  greatly 
disturbed  thereby.  Very  little  appeared  of  a  compli- 
mentary nature.  Remarks  about  "  Commercializing 
the  art  of  healing ''  and  "  Turning  a  work  of  mercy 
to  financial  advantage  "  were  quite  commonly  applied 
to  his  methods.  The  Herald  and  the  Tribune  were 
especially  virulent.  In  one  issue  would  be  quoted 
some  expert   who   "  admitted   that   anything   giving 


MRS.    SMITH    PRESCRIBES  233 

promise  of  hope  in  the  attack  against  tuberculosis  was 
worthy  of  consideration,  but  could  hardly  see  wherein 
the  Hermann  treatment  offered  any  hope  or  gain  to 
anyone  except  Hermann  himself  and  his  agent  Mid- 
dane."  Next  issue  would  come  another  man,  whose 
reputation  was  so  good  that  the  very  mention  of  his 
name  increased  his  words  a  thousandfold  in  impor- 
tance, and  say :  "  There  has  been  time  and  opportunity 
in  plentiful  measure  extended  to  Doctor  Hermann  and 
his  agent,  Middane,  to  demonstrate  the  therapeutic 
value  of  this  treatment,  but  there  has  been  no  demon- 
stration of  any  value.  On  the  other  hand,  we  have 
reports  of  experimental  cases  in  which  great  detriment 
appears  to  have  been  suffered." 

Oh,  it  was  poor  stuff  for  advertising.  Yet  it  did 
not  utterly  discourage  Middane,  for  long  experience 
had  taught  him  that  the  public  has  a  short  memory, 
and  he  believed  that  he  knew  where  to  buy  newspaper 
space  when  his  time  came. 

And  he  believed  his  time  would  come.  Mary  was 
right  here  in  the  city  of  Chicago  now.  He  believed 
in  himself  enough  to  think  that  he  could  devise  ways 
of  winning  or  trapping  her  into  helping  him  to  that 
fortune,  and  then  if  he  wanted  any  more  money,  with 
that  capital  back  of  him,  he  knew  how  to  make  it. 
Let  no  foolish  person  think  for  one  moment  that  Doc- 
tor Middane  was  through. 

It  was  well  for  Mary  Standlaws  that  she  had  no 
knowledge  of  his  thoughts  and  schemes,  to  add  to  her 
perplexities.  She  had  come  to  Chicago,  with  the  doc- 
tor, with  the  primary  purpose  of  helping  Gladys  over 
her  shock.  Langston  and  Langston  had  that  day 
given  her  official  information  that  the  Doane  fortune 
was  at  her  disposal,  and  unless  some  meddlesome  per- 


234  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

son  secured  legal  injunction  or  otherwise  restrained 
her,  there  was  nothing  to  prevent  her  entrance  upon  the 
work  of  carrying  out  her  father's  wishes.  She  did 
not,  therefore,  expect  to  return  to  Latham  Centre. 
She  would  need  a  keen  adviser  in  the  great  work  she 
expected  to  undertake,  for  she  had  absolutely  no  knowl- 
edge where  or  how  to  begin.  Her  first  task,  there- 
fore, with  Johnny  Langston's  aid,  would  be  to  secure 
such  an  adviser  and  manager.  But  the  appalling  pub- 
licity of  her  affairs  and  the  immediate  personal  notori- 
ety which  she  was  compelled  to  face,  hindered  her.  It 
became  absolutely  necessary  that  she  remain  in  close 
confinement,  so  disagreeable  was  the  observation  and 
comment  to  which  she  was  subject,  though  most  of  it 
was  intended  to  be  kindly  sympathetic.  Perhaps  it 
was  fortunate  that  an  immediate  and  active  demand 
for  her  services  existed. 

Gladys  had  suffered  little  and  quickly  rallied,  but 
Mrs.  Smith  was  very  ill.  Each  had  suffered  the  same 
exposure  and  the  nerve  strain  had  been  far  greater 
upon  Gladys,  but  it  found  in  her  an  active,  virile  body, 
well  able  to  bring  reserves  of  strength  to  rally  against 
shock.  Alas,  for  poor  Mrs.  Smith!  She  had  been 
buoyed  by  excitement  rather  than  strength,  and  ex- 
citement is  a  poor  prop  to  withstand  exposure.  The 
lung  that  had  been  put  to  rest  by  the  nitrogen  gas  was 
in  poor  condition  to  stand  excessive  strain  and  the 
other  lung  found  its  labours  overwhelming.  She  was 
very  ill,  indeed,  with  an  acute  pneumonia. 

The  poor  woman  was  well  cared  for,  receiving  the 
medical  attention  of  Doctor  David  Williams  and  his 
most  eminent  associate,  the  German  professor,  but 
she  gave  a  great  sigh  of  relief  when  Mary  appeared. 

"  You're  the  one  I  am  looking  for,"  she  gasped,  in 


MRS.    SMITH    PRESCRIBES  235 

painful  whispers,  as  she  eagerly  clasped  Mary's  hand 
in  both  of  her  own.  "  I  don't  know  that  you  can  make 
me  well,  but  you  can  help  me.  There's  things  I  can 
ask  you  to  do  as  these  other  people  wouldn't  under- 
stand." 

"  We  will  do  whatever  you  wish  and  soon  help  you 
out  of  your  distress,"  Mary  assured  her. 

"  Yes,  but  there's  two  ways  out  of  distress,"  she 
managed  to  say,  with  some  of  her  old-time  vivacity. 
"  I  want  you  to  use  something  I've  got  in  my  bag.  It 
won't  interfere  with  nothing  the  doctors  are  doing  and 
it  has  helped  me  before." 

"Anything  that  doesn't  interfere  with  the  doctor's 
orders,"  Mary  agreed. 

"  Well,  you'll  find  this  in  the  bottom  of  the  little 
bag.  I  most  always  carry  it  with  me  when  I  go  any- 
where, so  I  put  it  in  the  bag — your  bag — that  I  packed 
just  before  I  came  away.  You'd  better  bring  the  bag 
to  me." 

Mary  did  as  directed  and  as  the  patient  was  too 
weak  to  raise  herself  in  bed  she  opened  the  clasps  and 
held  the  bag  open  for  inspection.  A  little  rummaging 
with  her  long  fingers  and  Mrs.  Smith  brought  from  the 
bottom  a  peculiar  metal  contrivance,  having  attached 
to  it  two  long  cords,  each  terminating  in  a  metal  disk. 

"  Get  a  bucket  of  water  now,  please,"  directed  Mrs. 
Smith. 

Wondering,  the  nurse  obeyed. 

"  You  put  the  cylinder  in  the  water  now,  then  you 
connect  one  of  them  disks  with  my  ankle  and  one 
with  my  wrist,"  the  patient  gave  further  direction. 

"  But  what  is  it  all  for?  "  Mary  ventured  to  inquire. 

"  It's  to  drive  out  the  fever,"  replied  the  believer. 
"  This  is  the  most  remarkable  thing  in  the  world,  but  I 


^36  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEEIl 

know  as  you  nurses  and  doctors  and  scientific  folks 
won't  never  believe  in  it;  it's  too  much  of  a  blow  at 
your  business.  I  bought  it  when  I  first  took  sick  and 
I  depended  on  it  altogether  till  I  come  to  The  Castle. 
It  cures  all  diseases  so  you  can't  make  no  mistake,  and 
it  sure  won't  interfere  with  none  of  the  medicine." 

Mary  took  the  marvellous  cylinder  in  her  hands  and 
turned  it  over  and  ever  as  if  to  peer  into  its  miraculous 
healing  properties.  Staring  up  at  her  she  saw  engraved 
on  its  side,  "  The  C  yjuvenator,  Chicago,  111."  It  was 
her  very  first  occa  )n  of  meeting  with  the  instrument 
that  had  made  the  ^oane  fortune ! 

She  looked  again  at  the  patient,  a  world  of  protest 
in  her  eyes.  Mrs.  Smith  could  not  speak,  for  she  held 
in  her  lips  the  thermoineter  Mary  had  placed  there  a 
moment  before,  but  she  shook  her  head  most  em- 
phatically. 

The  nurse  took  the  thermometer  from  her  mouth 
and  glanced  at  the  record.    It  was  io6°. 

"  It  can  do  no  harm,"  cried  the  patient. 

And  the  nurse  knew  that  she  was  right.  Its  harm 
was  done  forever.  This  was  no  time  for  argument;  a 
dying  woman  was  not  one  with  whom  to  quibble. 

She  dropped  the  cylinder  into  the  bowl  of  water  and 
busied  herself  attaching  the  worthless  connections  as 
directed,  while  her  mind  and  heart  throbbed  with 
the  impulse  to  atone  for  this  monstrous  iniquity  upon 
which  the  fortunes  of  her  family  had  been  reared. 


XXXVI 
"TELL  MARY  TO  GIVE  HIM  A  CHANCE" 

4ND  the  Reverend  Milton  Stroud!  Did  not  he 
/-%  also  read  the  Chicago  newspapers  and  receive 
"^  -^  their  full  and  free  information?  How  did  he 
enjoy  being  featured  as  a  hero  of  the  chase?  How 
did  he  like  the  newspaper's  announcement  that  he  was 
engaged  to  the  sister  of  the  lady  of  the  chase,  which 
sister  was  the  head  nurse  of  the  institution  where  he 
had  been  sojourning?  Was  it  a  pleasant  thing  for  him 
that  his  congregation  should  receive  this  announce- 
ment in  this  playful  manner? 

It  was  not.  He  resented  every  published  reference. 
He  was  greatly  incensed  at  the  unauthorized  report  of 
his  engagement,  and  when  a  friend  telephoned  an  in- 
quiry, he  denied  it  outright.  Be  not  quick  to  condemn 
him.  It  was  a  hard  situation  for  Milton  Stroud.  An  ordi- 
nary man  may  take  a  wife  unto  himself.  But  a  minis- 
ter brings  one  to  his  congregation,  and  it  expects  as 
much  from  her  as  from  himself.  It  does  not  favour 
sensational  matches.  It  prefers  a  quiet,  well-ordered 
campaign,  won  finally  by  a  home  product. 

Milton  Stroud  did  not  look  at  the  situation  on  its 
humorous  side,  as  Johnny  Langston  viewed  it.  A  min- 
ister is  always  handicapped  in  his  efforts  at  being  just 
a  man.  How  should  it  be  otherwise?  He  makes  an 
early  choice,  and  as  a  mere  youth  goes  forth  a  minister. 
He  is  at  this  time  a  young  man  whose  whole  experi- 
ence of  life  is  that  of  boy  rather  than  man;  and  from 

237 


^8  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

his  ordination  on  he  is  treated  not  as  a  man  but  as  a 
minister — 3.  priest.  People  often  think  things  about 
the  minister  but  seldom  do  they  speak  them  to  his  face. 
Not  every  one  defers  to  him,  but  opposition  is  always 
passive  rather  than  active.  There  is  a  great  deal  of 
pedestal  business  and  likewise  a  great  deal  of  pelting 
at  the  image  on  the  pedestal;  but  it  is  quite  different 
from  the  give  and  take  of  an  ordinary  man's  life.  The 
whole  community  is  in  a  conspiracy  to  keep  the  minis- 
ter from  seeing  things  as  do  other  men,  and  the  fact 
that,  in  spite  of  this,  so  many  of  them  are  human 
beings  is  one  of  the  highest  possible  tributes  to  their 
perspicacity. 

So  the  minister  resented  hotly  the  published  refer- 
ences to  this  most  sacred  matter,  though  he  had  ex- 
pected to  announce  it  himself,  widely  and  joyfully,  as 
soon  as  a  few  more  definite  words  had  been  spoken. 
And  he  resented  still  more  the  sly  allusions  of  acquaint- 
ances, the  telephone  inquiries  which  were  made  with 
such  great  attempts  at  incognito,  and  the  notes  (mostly 
unsigned)  which  came  in  abundance. 

"  I  am  sure  that  our  dear  pastor  is  not  to  be  tempted 
by  the  glittering  possibility  of  a  fortune,  though  it 
reach  into  the  millions,"  said  one  note.  "  A  good  con- 
science, a  name  free  from  evil  report,  a  helpmeet  who 
really  understands  church  matters — how  sweet  it  is  to 
really  understand — is  far  better  than  riches  from  un- 
pleasant sources." 

Little  wonder  that  he  snappishly  told  some  telephone 
inquirers  that  it  was  none  of  their  business,  and  others 
that  the  report  was  a  newspaper  fiction.  And  little 
harm  would  have  resulted  had  not  some  of  these  same 
sympathetic  inquirers — several  of  them,  in  fact — man- 
aged to  relay  the  information  to  Mary,  in  spite  of  her 


"  TELL  MARY  TO  GIVE  HIM  A  CHANCE  "  239 

seclusion.  She  was  already  repentant  of  her  moment's 
yielding.  She  felt  that  she  had  no  right  to  yield.  Her 
business  for  the  next  few  months  lay  in  the  distribu- 
tion of  as  much  of  the  Doane  fortune  as  she  could  hon- 
estly restore  to  its  contributors.  After  that  she  would 
again  be  a  poor  woman,  her  work  of  atoning  for  her 
father's  error  still  incomplete.  So  she  wrote  Mr. 
Stroud  a  little  note  to  say  how  sorry  she  was  that  he 
had  been  annoyed  by  foolish  reports  and  how  glad  that 
he  had  squelched  them  so  completely.  And  she  re- 
solved to  forget. 

Mary  might  have  known  Milton  Stroud  well  enough 
to  guess  the  effect  of  such  a  communication.  He  had 
no  thought  of  giving  her  up.  His  vexation  had  not 
been  with  her,  but  with  the  busybodies  who  attempted 
to  dictate  his  private  affairs.  More  than  ever  was  he 
convinced  that  she  was  the  woman  for  his  wife.  He 
had  an  engagement  at  the  hotel  which  helpfully  served 
him.  He  was  to  be  examined  by  Doctor  David  Wil- 
liams and  the  eminent  German  scientist  as  to  his  physi- 
cal condition.  He  resolved  that  when  these  men  of 
medicine  had  given  their  opinion,  and  that  opinion 
showed  him  sound  in  body,  he  would  go  to  a  still  higher 
authority  and  learn  his  standing  on  less  material  but 
more  important  points. 

He  presented  himself  to  the  examining  physicians 
with  immense  concern.  It  was  of  tremendous  impor- 
tance that  he  should  again  be  able  to  count  himself  a 
sound  man.  He  heard  their  verdict  with  as  deep  emo- 
tion as  any  prisoner  at  the  bar  of  justice. 

"  He  is  an  example  most  profitable,"  said  the  pro- 
fessor, speaking  to  David  in  German,  which  Stroud 
could  just  understand.  "  He  is  a  lesson  well  demon- 
strated.    An  incipient  case,  early  to  the  sanatorium, 


240  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

well  handled,  a  stay  of  sufficient  length  to  bring  real 
results,  and  here  he  is  apparently  cured.  He's  as  sound 
as  you  are." 

The  doctors  did  not  stay.  They  were  very  anxious 
about  the  case  of  Mrs.  Smith,  who  lay  in  a  room  up- 
stairs, fighting  for  existence.  They  left  Stroud  to  voice 
his  joy  to  the  old  doctor. 

"  Vm  as  glad  as  you,"  said  the  old  man.  "  Plumb 
cured,  ain't  ye?  It  shorely  makes  ye  feel  like  ye  can 
do  anything  on  earth.  But  don't  ye  do  it,  ye  under- 
stan'  me." 

"  I  intend  to  be  careful,  Doctor.  I  must  keep  my 
health  for  my  work.  You  remember  the  prescription 
you  said  I  should  get  filled  when  I  was  well." 

"  I  remember  it,  son.  It's  just  as  good  a  perskiption 
now  as  when  I  give  it,  ye  understan'  me.  Think  ye 
know  where  ye  can  go  to  git  it  filled  ?  " 

"  I  know  where  I'd  like  to  go." 

"  Anybody  any  objection  to  of¥er  ?  " 

"  No  one  of  great  importance,  though  a  few  of  my 
people  have  seemed  a  little  antagonistic." 

"  Mebbe  they  think  they've  a  right." 

"  They  think  so,  possibly." 

"  Kind  o'  mutual  affair.  You  tell  *em  who  they 
orter  marry,  an'  they  tell  who  you  orter." 

Stroud  laughed  feebly.  "  I  hadn't  thought  of  it 
that  way,  but  I  suppose  that's  a  good  way  to  put  it." 

"  How  much  'tention  do  they  pay  to  what  you  say 
'bout  them?" 

"  None  at  all,"  said  the  young  minister,  with  much 
emphasis. 

"  How  much  you  goin'  to  pay  to  what  they  say?  " 

Stroud's  face  lighted  and  his  jaw  set  firmly. 

"  None  at  all,"  he  said,  with  greater  emphasis. 


"  TELL  MARY  TO  GIVE  HIM  A  CHANCE  "  241 

The  old  doctor  patted  him  on  the  back  with  grave 
sympathy  and  approval. 

"  Thought  ye'd  see  it  that  way,  son.  Thought  ye 
would.  It's  a  place  where  no  outside  buddy  can  step 
in,  ye  understan'  me.  It's  for  nobody  but  you — an' 
her — an'  eternity !  " 

The  minister  stood  for  a  moment  in  silence. 

"  Can  I  see  Miss  Mary  for  a  few  minutes,  do  you 
think?" 

"As  far  as  me  bein'  the  doctor  an'  her  bein'  the 
nurse  you  can,  perfessionally  speakin',  that  is;  but  as 
far  as  her  bein'  the  gel  an'  you  bein'  the  man,  I  dunno. 
Guess  ye'd  better  send  up  word  to  fin'  out." 

But  the  heart  affairs  of  Milton  Stroud  were  to  get  no 
consideration  that  evening.  He  was  called  into  con- 
ference for  higher  matters.  The  note  brought  back 
by  the  messenger  simply  said  that  Mary  was  so  very 
glad  Mr.  Stroud  was  in  the  hotel  and  would  he  please 
come  up  to  see  Mrs.  Smith. 

A  hotel  is  a  tragic  place  for  sickness  and  death. 
While  housing  hundreds  it  is  a  home  for  none.  The 
crowd  which  fills  its  cubicles  and  throngs  its  corridors 
divides  into  units,  each  concerned  with  individual  af- 
fairs. The  signs  of  sickness,  the  sounds  of  distress, 
even  the  evidence  of  attendance  must  all  be  concealed 
from  the  other  guests,  lest  their  peace  or  comfort  be 
disturbed.  Stroud  rode  to  the  twelfth  floor  in  an  ele- 
vator filled  with  people  talking  the  light  topics  of  the 
day.  A  young  man  who  stepped  off  with  him  went 
jingling  his  keys  and  whistling  along  the  corridor.  A 
woman  trilled  the  lines  of  music  that  still  lingered  in 
her  memory,  as  she  stepped  into  her  room.  Then  he 
turned  a  knob  and  was  in  the  presence  of  the  angel  of 
death. 


242  THE    CASTLE   OF    CHEER 

The  doctors  were  gone.  There  was  nothing  more 
that  they  could  do.  The  woman  was  dying.  She  was 
no  great  loss  to  the  world.  There  were  few  to  mourn 
her  departure.  She  was  going  to  swell  the  throng  of 
better  people,  and  some  worse  people,  who  had  left 
life's  struggle  early  in  the  fight.  A  woman  hardly  fit 
for  living  and  certainly  unfit  for  dying — ^but  going  just 
as  absolutely  as  one  who  goes  prepared.  Going — and 
so  unready !  Going — and  from  a  disease  preventable ! 
Going — and  adding  one  more  to  a  vast  army  of  citi- 
zens (really  useful  and  desirable  citizens)  who  con- 
stantly go  along  this  great  white  way. 

At  the  side  of.  the  bed  stood  a  man  whom  Stroud  did 
not  recognize.  It  was  Vance  Doane,  summoned  at 
Mrs.  Smith's  request,  to  gratify  her  last  moments. 

He  was  not  the  important  Doctor  Middane.  His 
smooth  loquacity  was  in  abeyance,  his  urbanity  had 
disappeared,  his  self-confidence  had  vanished  away. 
No  doubt  he  would  later  find  the  death  of  this  woman 
a  great  relief.  But  now  he  stood  limp  and  abashed  in 
the  presence  of  the  awful  mystery  that  dignifies  the 
dying,  and  realized  his  insignificance. 

And  she,  this  woman  whom  he  had  abused  and 
deserted,  did  she  use  the  breath  remaining  in  her 
fevered  body  to  upbraid  him  for  his  faithlessness  and 
brutality  ? 

"  I  wanted  to  see  you  just  once  more,  Vance,"  were 
her  words,  as  both  her  wasted  hands  twined  themselves 
around  his  limp  fingers.  "  I  had  to  see  you  before  I 
passed  out.  I've  been  living  with  Mary  and  the 
preacher  and  these  people  that's  good,  an'  I  want  you 
to  begin  training  with  their  crowd,  because  I  know  it 
pays.    I  want  you  to,  Vance." 

And  although  Mr.  Stroud  had  come  in  order  that 


I 


"  TELL  MARY  TO  GIVE  HIM  A  CHANCE  "  243 

he  might  minister  to  her  dying  needs,  the  words  she 
strained  to  say  to  him  were  not  for  herself. 

"  Vance  ain't  so  bad,  Mister  Stroud,"  she  gasped. 
"  Give  him  a  chance.  Tell  Mary  to  give  him  a  chance. 
He  ain't  so  bad !  " 

And  there  was  a  great  stillness. 


XXXVII 

HENRY  VANCIL  DOANE  WOULD  SOAR 
AGAIN 

MISS  JOLLEY  was  at  some  little  inconvenience 
in  attending  the  church  of  her  adoption,  but 
nothing  could  have  induced  her  to  slight  the 
service  of  the  next  Sunday  evening.  The  hour's  ride 
on  the  elevated  and  a  few  traffic  difficulties  combined 
to  make  her  and  her  brother  a  little  late,  but  they  found 
they  were  not  without  company,  for  the  vestibule  was 
well  filled  with  late  comers  waiting  admission. 

The  cards  on  the  vestibule  walls  announced  *'  A  rev- 
erent silence  is  requested/'  but  Miss  Jolley  nudged  her 
brother  and  whispered  to  him  in  some  excitement. 

"  Do  you  see  that  man  standing  near  the  balcony 
stairs.  It's  that  doctor — Doane  or  Middane — or  what- 
ever his  name  is — the  man  who  got  my  thirty  dollars. 
I  wonder  to  see  him.  What  I  said  to  him  did  him 
good,  I  guarantee." 

Possibly  she  was  mistaken.  If  any  softening  influ- 
ence had  sent  Doctor  Middane  to  church  it  was  more 
likely  the  death  of  the  woman  whom  he  had  acknowl- 
edged as  his  wife.  Perhaps  he  thought  it  fitting  that 
after  Milton  Stroud  had  performed  the  last  solemn  rites 
for  the  wife,  the  husband  should  at  least  come  to  hear 
him  preach.  Miss  Jolley  knew  nothing  of  this,  but, 
filled  with  interest  in  the  man,  she  followed  him  closely 
when  the  ushers  opened  the  doors,  and  found  some 

244 


DOANE    WOULD    SOAR    AGAIN         M6 

satisfaction  in  being  seated  in  an  end  seat  immediately 
behind  him,  where  she  could  watch  him  unobserved. 

There  was  another  party  in  the  church,  in  which 
Miss  Jolley  would  have  felt  a  much  greater  interest, 
for  it  consisted  of  the  old  doctor,  Johnny  Langston, 
and  Miss  Mary.  She  saw  nothing  of  them,  however, 
for  the  church  was  large  and  packed  full  to  greet  the 
popular  pastor  on  his  return,  in  full  health,  to  his 
labours. 

The  soloist  of  the  evening  was  just  beginning  as 
Miss  Jolley  settled  in  her  seat. 

"I  walked  through   the  woodland  meadows 

Where  sweet  the  thrushes  sing, 
And  I  found  on  a  bed  of  mosses 

A  bird  with  a  broken  wing. 
I  healed  its  wound,  and  each  morning 

It  sang  its  old,  sweet  strain: 
But  the  bird  with  a  broken  pinion 

Never  soared  so  high  again.'' 

"  Where  have  I  heard  that?  "  she  thought,  and  her 
memory  flashed  back  to  the  scene  of  the  "  Sunday 
sing  "  at  The  Castle. 

"  It's  fine,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  But  Miss  Mary 
sang  it  just  as  well."  Then,  as  the  singer  reached  the 
line,  "  But  the  life  that  sin  had  stricken  never  soared 
so  high  again,"  she  recalled  the  pathos  which  Mary 
had  put  into  that  line. 

"  I  know  why  she  took  it  so  hard,"  she  mused. 
"  She  was  thinking  of  her  pa.  Now  the  newspapers 
have  told  the  story  I  can  see  what  she  had  on  her  mind. 
Wonder  what  the  sinner  in  front  of  me  thinks  about 
it?" 

The  preacher's  text  this  evening  was  very  appropri- 


246  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

ate.  It  was  found  in  Jeremiah,  Chapter  17,  Verse  14. 
"  Heal  me,  O  Lord,  and  I  shall  be  healed ;  save  me, 
and  I  shall  be  saved." 

One  of  the  things  contributing  to  the  popularity  of 
the  Reverend  Milton  Stroud  was  his  entire  innocence 
of  pulpit  tricks.  He  always  remembered  that  he  stood 
in  a  large  church  before  many  hundreds  of  people  who 
had  taken  much  trouble  to  come  to  worship,  and  were 
entitled,  every  one,  to  hear  all  that  he  had  to  say,  and 
that  these  things  that  he  had  to  say  must  be  such  as 
every  one  could  understand.  There  was  no  aggravat- 
ing drop  of  the  voice  at  moments  of  crisis,  there  was 
no  appeal  to  a  special  few,  there  was  no  sneering  at  the 
poor,  there  was  no  railing  at  the  rich.  When  Milton 
Stroud  stood  in  his  pulpit  he  spoke  as  an  apostle  of 
Jesus  Christ,  and  every  man  was  a  man  and  no  man 
was  more  than  a  man. 

The  minister  was  in  the  middle  of  his  story  before 
Miss  Jolley  realized  that  he  was  actually  telling  of  his 
own  sanatorium  experiences,  for  he  named  no  places 
and  made  no  specific  references.  Then  indeed  she  lis- 
tened more  intently  than  ever,  listened  and  heard  him 
saying :  ''  And  so  this  wonderful  thing  came  true — the 
man  was  healed.  He  who  dreaded  so  to  own  his  defect, 
his  lapse  from  a  sound  body,  who  feared  that  the  very 
act  of  acknowledgment  stamped  him  as  a  marked  man, 
a  doomed  man,  now  heard  the  doctors  speak  of  him  as 
sound.  More  than  that,  he  heard  a  theory  that  almost 
all  persons  who  are  free  from  this  disease  are  so  be- 
cause at  some  time  in  their  lives  they  have  met  and 
conquered  it.  He  was  healed.  He  could  run  and  not 
be  weary,  he  could  walk  and  not  faint.  *  Heal  me,  O 
Lord,  and  I  shall  be  healed.'  Do  we  believe  it?  Let 
us  follow  then  to  the  next  section, '  Save  me,  and  I  shall 


DOANE    WOULD    SOAR    AGAIN         247 

be  saved/  "  He  drew  a  masterly  analogy  between  the 
ravages  of  disease  in  the  body  and  sin  in  the  soul  be- 
fore he  returned  again  to  his  text. 

"  '  Save  me,  and  I  shall  be  saved/  Is  this  cry  to  be 
in  vain  ?  Is  it  not  equally  potent  with  '  Heal  me  and  I 
shall  be  healed  '  ?  Is  there  no  restoration  to  sound 
health  of  soul,  or  must  the  sinner  always  bear  those 
lesions,  always  flutter  feebly  with  that  broken  pinion? 
The  body  has  yielded  to  disease  or  there  would  be  no 
recovery,  but  it  is  stronger  for  the  fight  it  has  made. 
The  soul  has  yielded  to  sin  or  there  would  be  no  salva- 
tion. May  it  not  also  be  stronger?  Must  it  be  true 
that  the  life  that  sin  has  stricken  never  soars  so  high 
again  ?  Away  with  such  analogy.  Shake  it  from  you. 
Face  the  situation  boldly.  You  agonize  over  some 
event  in  your  past — you  think  it  has  ruined  your  life. 
If  I  could  only  go  back  and  omit  that,  you  say.  If  it 
could  only  be  blotted  out.  In  this  audience,  this  very 
night,  is  more  than  one  who  is  agonizing  in  this  way. 
Let  us  be  very  clear  about  it.  Are  you  disturbed  about 
the  displeasure  of  your  Lord  or  the  censure  of  your 
fellow-men?  You  say  it  has  ruined  your  life,  and  I 
say  your  life  is  full  of  hope  as  ever,  if  you  will  let  it 
be.  You  say  it  never  can  be  blotted  out,  and  I  say  that 
He  has  blotted  out,  as  a  thick  cloud,  thy  transgres- 
sions. Enough  of  vain  regret.  Turn  back  to  the  page 
— lay  it  bare.  Look  at  it  in  all  its  repulsive  gloom. 
Consider  it  well.  Then  dare  to  say  that  it  may  not  be 
touched  with  the  finger  of  God  and  made  an  ennobling 
influence;  that  it  may  not  be  used  by  Him  as  a  warning 
mark — a  guiding  signal  to  save  you  from  error.  But 
more  than  its  negative  virtue.  Dare  to  say  that  it  may 
not  inspire  you  to  deeds  for  which  you  never  would 
muster  courage,  but  for  its  lash;  that  it  may  not  goad 


248  THE    CASTLE    OF   CHEER 

you  to  climb  to  higher  places  than  your  coward  soul 
would  contemplate,  save  for  its  spur.  Who  are  they 
who  love  much  but  those  to  whom  much  has  been  for- 
given? Who  bears  the  burden  of  apostleship  better 
than  the  chief  of  sinners?  Away  with  brooding  over 
past  mistakes.  Let  remorse  and  regret  bring  you  to  a 
godly  repentance,  and  have  done  with  it  forever.  It  is 
the  Lord  who  saves,  and  His  saving  is  complete  as  His 
healing.  Who  will  cry  with  me  this  night :  '  Sing,  O  ye 
heavens,  for  the  Lord  hath  done  it:  shout,  ye  lower 
parts  of  the  earth :  break  forth  into  singing,  ye  moun- 
tains, O  forest,  and  every  tree  therein:  for  the  Lord 
hath  redeemed  Jacob  and  glorified  himself  in  Israel '  ?  " 

Milton  Stroud's  church  was  a  business  church;  his 
sermons  were  business  sermons;  it  was  no  unusual 
thing  for  men  to  rise  after  these  sermons  and  express 
a  desire  for  a  new  life.  So  there  was  little  wonder, 
in  that  audience,  that  more  than  one  responded  to  that 
great  appeal.  One  penitent  there  was,  sitting  in  a  seat 
on  the  aisle,  who  was  urged  by  others.  The  little  lady 
sitting  behind  whispered  to  him  words  of  encourage- 
ment; he  smiled  and  shook  his  head;  she  whispered 
again;  he  wavered,  he  considered,  he  rose  to  his  feet, 
and  went  forward. 

To  the  preacher  such  responses  came  as  the  most 
welcome  fruit  of  his  labour,  the  hire  which  really  satis- 
fied. But  his  joy  was  almost  sadness  that  night,  when 
this  last  penitent  came  forward.  Without  doubt  there 
was  joy  among  the  angels,  but  was  there  joy  in  the 
heart  of  Milton  Stroud?  Doctor  Middane,  unregen- 
erate  swindler,  might  well  be  a  subject  for  scorn,  but 
what  would  a  soft-hearted  woman  say  to  Henry  Vancil 
Doane,  repentant,  converted,  seeking  a  chance  to  show 
that  he  also  might  soar  again? 


XXXVIII 
MONEY  TO  GIVE  AWAY 

THERE  might  be  doubt  in  some  minds  as  to  the 
genuine  quality  of  Middane's  conversion,  but 
none  existed  in  the  mind  of  Johnny  Langston. 
He  was  quite  disgusted  with  the  creduHty  displayed 
by  some  of  his  friends,  especially  the  old  doctor. 

"  IVe  seen  it  done  before,  Doc,"  he  assured  him. 
"  It's  the  same  principle  as  tickets  for  soup.  It's  the 
Chinese  rice-Christian  dodge.  I'm  easy,  I'll  admit  it; 
but  don't  ask  me  to  believe  that  fellow.  The  very 
fact  that  he  says  he  repents  makes  me  all  the  more 
sure  that  he  doesn't.'* 

"  No  good  talkin'  to  me,  Johnny,"  the  old  doctor 
responded.  "  I  ain't  the  judge.  If  a  man  comes  to  me 
an'  says  he  wants  to  begin  all  over  again,  all  I  can  say 
is  *  Come  along,'  ye  understan'  me.  Don't  make  no 
diff'runce  who  he  is  nor  how  bad  he's  been.  God's 
forgiveness  is  big  'nuff  for  anybody  or  anything. 
Who  'm  I  to  say  a  man's  too  bad?  Supposin'  I  send 
him  away,  an'  arter  all  he's  honest  ?  No  sir,  *  Whoso- 
ever will '  takes  in  Middane,  so  fur  as  I'm  concerned." 

"  I'm  going  to  quote  Bible  on  you.  Doctor,"  per- 
sisted Johnny.  "  Doesn't  it  say,  *  Wherefore,  by  their 
fruits  ye  shall  know  them  '  ?  " 

"  It  shorely  does,  Johnny.  It  shorely  does.  I'm  glad 
to  find  ye  knowin'  s'  much.  That's  all  you  an'  me's  got 
to  go  by.  This  fellow's  new  life  ain't  hardly  com- 
menced yet.    He's  showin'  all  the  fruit  ye  can  expect 

249 


250  THE    CASTLE   OF    CHEER 

in  ownin'  up  that  he's  been  all  wrong  an'  wants  to  right 
'bout  face." 

''  And  how  much  does  he  want  to  do  it?  "  sneered 
Johnny. 

"  He  wants  it  this  much.  He's  been  here  an'  offered 
Mary  to  supply  her  with  the  names  of  as  many  people 
as  he  can — the  people  as  bought  his  Oxyjuvenator, 
ye  understan'  me." 

"  Do  you  mean  so  that  she  may  pay  back  the  money 
to  them?" 

''  That's  what  I'm  told." 

"  The  last  I  heard  he  was  talking  of  getting  an  in- 
junction to  restrain  her  from  squandering  the  estate." 

"  Well,  he  won't  git  no  injunction.  He's  offered  to 
help  her  spend  it,  instead." 

"  I  don't  doubt  he'd  like  to  help  her  spend  it." 

"  I'd  oughtn't  to  say  * 'spend.'  Give  it  back  to  peo- 
ple.    He's  willing  to  help  her  give  it  back." 

"  And  is  she  going  to  let  him  ?  " 

"  She  prob'ly  will.  She  says  it's  as  much  his  fa- 
ther's trouble  as  her  father's  an'  he'd  orter  have  as 
good  a  chanct  to  make  good." 

"  So  she  is  going  to  make  him  her  manager?" 

"  That's  what  she  says." 

"  He  knows  so  much  about  it,  having  had  so  large 
a  share  in  extorting  it,  that  he  would  be  the  very  man 
to  make  the  refund  if  he  were  honest.  But  I  can't 
trust  him." 

"  Mary  won't  ask  you  to.  She'll  trust  him  herself. 
She  says  no  man  as  wants  to  make  restitootion  shall 
lose  the  joy  of  it,  if  she  can  give  it  to  him.  She's 
a-thinkin'  of  her  paw,  ye  understan'  me." 

"  She  may  trust  him  too  much.  We  must  watch  to 
see  that  she  isn't  imposed  upon." 


MONEY    TO    GIVE    AWAY  251 

*'  Yes,  we'll  watch.  But  Mary's  in  better  hands  than 
ours." 

The  old  doctor  would  rather  be  the  victim  of  ninety 
and  nine  impostors  than  do  an  injustice  to  one  re- 
pentant person.  But  Johnny  was  frankly  sceptical, 
and  so  long  as  Mary  retained  him  as  her  legal 
adviser  he  would  keep  a  sharp  eye  on  Henry  Vancil 
Doane. 

There  was  another  matter  of  great  importance  to 
occupy  Johnny's  attention  just  at  present.  The  old 
doctor  was  going  back  to  The  Castle.  Doctor  David 
and  his  young  wife  were  going  to  take  a  brief  South- 
ern trip,  and  for  purposes  of  recuperation  would  take 
with  them  Gladys  Standlaws,  who  needed  a  vacation 
after  the  adventure,  tragedy,  and  gloom  of  the  recent 
weeks.  Johnny  schemed  with  his  old  chum  David  to 
bring  his  party  back  to  Latham  Centre  at  a  certain 
particular  time  which  he  considered  favourable  for 
plans  of  his  own.  Meantime  he  must  expedite  work 
in  Chicago,  and  get  this  project  of  Mary's  well  under 
way.  Doane's  proposal  was  peculiarly  helpful  if  he 
could  be  held  to  its  honest  performance.  He  knew  all 
about  the  books.  He  knew  who  had  acted  as  agents. 
He  had  dealt  personally  with  many  of  the  victims. 
There  was  no  man  living  who  could  so  well  assist  in 
the  great  plan,  did  he  honestly  desire  so  to  do.  The 
work  was  to  be  carried  on  from  the  old  offices  of  the 
Oxyjuvenator  Company,  and  there  Johnny  established 
himself  for  a  time.  He  engaged  as  many  of  the  old 
employees  as  possible.  It  was  Mary's  desire  that  those 
who  had  been  engaged  in  the  old  work — no  matter  how 
innocently — should  as  far  as  possible  have  a  chance 
to  exhibit  their  zeal  in  the  new-  It  was  a  comfort- 
ing thought  to  her  that  even  the  typewriters  which 


252  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

had  once  clicked  out  deceptive  letters  for  purposes  of 
extortion  would  now  write  joyful  notices  of  good 
news. 

Doane  produced  long  lists  of  names  and  addresses 
of  purchasers.    Johnny  looked  them  over. 

"  These  will  do  to  start  on,"  he  said.  "  Give  these 
to  your  bookkeepers  and  tell  them  to  multiply  the  price 
paid  at  purchase  four  times,  and  on  the  sum  compute 
compound  interest  from  the  date  of  purchase." 

"  It  will  take  an  awful  lot  of  money,"  said  Doane. 

Johnny  eyed  him  suspiciously. 

"  We  know  that  very  well,  Mr.  Doane.  The  more 
the  better.  It  is  our  purpose  in  the  next  five  months 
to  deplete  the  Doane  estate  as  heavily  as  possible. 
Your  next  work  will  be  to  look  up  more  names.  When 
you  have  found  all  you  can,  we  will  advertise  for  all 
buyers,  no  matter  how  old  the  purchase.  Some  of 
their  claims  that  run  back  fifteen  or  twenty  years  will 
make  a  pretty  sum.    It's  a  happy  prospect,  isn't  it  ?  " 

But  Doane  walked  away  without  a  word,  and  Johnny 
made  no  comment,  but  dictated  instructions  to  the 
cashier  that  no  vouchers  were  to  be  marked  for  pay- 
ment unless  they  bore  his  initials. 

Since  the  policy  of  the  Oxyjuvenator  Company  had 
been  to  sell  their  instrument  for  the  highest  possible 
price  but  to  consider  any  offer  rather  than  lose  a  sale, 
the  vouchers  differed  greatly  in  amount.  The  older 
refunds  made  a  very  considerable  amount.  In  the  first 
day's  batch  as  they  came  to  Johnny's  hands  there  were 
vouchers  for  large  sums.  The  very  first  one  was  for 
over  six  hundred  dollars.  He  took  it  back  to  the  book- 
keeper. 

"  Are  you  sure  this  is  correct  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  All  correct,  sir.    Verified  by  the  machine." 


MONEY   TO    GIVE    AWAY  253 

*'  But  the  original  purchase  price  was  thirty  dollars, 
in  this  case." 

"Yes,  sir,  but  it  was  nineteen  years  ago,  and  the 
instructions  were  to  figure  the  highest  rate  of  interest, 
compooinded  semi-annually.  Then  the  thirty  dollars 
being  multiplied  by  four  makes  one  hundred  and 
twenty  to  begin  with." 

"  I  see,"  said  Johnny.  '*  It's  the  interest  that  counts. 
This  job  promises  to  be  of  quite  unusual  interest.  Per- 
haps five  months  will  be  enough,  after  all." 

"  It  takes  a  lot  of  such  amounts  to  make  as  much  as 
a  million  dollars,"  ventured  the  bookkeeper,  **  and 
there's  a  good  many  millions  in  the  Doane  estate." 

"  Right  you  are,"  said  Johnny.  "  But  we'll  do  our 
best.     Let  the  good  work  go  on." 


XXXIX 

MR.  LANGSTON  CELEBRATES   ST.  VALEN- 
TINE'S DAY 

BACK  to  Latham  Centre,  back  to  The  Inn,  back 
to  Mrs.  Goodman  and  her  doctor-husband  and 
her  Cupid  baby,  back  to  The  Castle  of  Cheer. 
John  Calhoun  Langston  is  back  for  the  day.  He  ar- 
rived on  an  early  train,  and  on  one  that  is  due  later  he 
expects  the  arrival  of  Doctor  David  Williams,  his 
pretty  young  wife,  and  another  young  woman,  a  nurse, 
whose  beauty  Johnny  holds  far  above  prettiness.  And 
the  day,  by  strange  fortuity,  is  the  fourteenth  of  Feb- 
ruary ! 

Johnny  had  work  piled  up  in  his  office,  but  this  was 
too  important  a  day  for  working  in  an  office.  He  could 
not  settle  down  to  it.  Which  is  why  he  was  bothering 
Mrs.  Goodman  so  early  in  the  morning. 

"  I  wonder  if  Lawyer  John  Calhoun  Langston  is 
under  the  impression  that  Valentine's  Day  is  a  legal 
holiday.     Do  you  suppose  that  he  is,  Precious?" 

Mrs.  Goodman  addressed  her  inquiry  to  the  only 
person  present  whom  it  would  have  been  at  all  proper 
to  address  in  such  endearing  terms,  but  she  got  no 
response,  for  he  was  but  a  mite  of  a  man,  speaking 
very  little  English  at  any  time,  and  just  now  busily  en- 
gaged in  diverting  Uncle  Johnny. 

"  Tell  your  old  muzzer  something  for  me,  you  Cupid 
baby,"  Johnny  answered  through  the  same  medium  of 
communication.    "  Tell  her  it  ain't  any  use  to  try  to 

254 


CELEBRATES  ST.  VALENTINE'S  DAY     255 

get  Johnny  to  work  to-day.  It's  quite  hopeless.  Tell 
her  something  is  going  to  happen  to-day.  If  it  doesn't 
happen  naturally,  Johnny's  going  to  make  it.  Tell  her 
that  your  David  and  Elsie  aren't  the  only  people  com- 
ing here." 

*'  We  know  all  about  who  else  is  coming,  Johnny," 
Mrs.  Goodman  answered  directly.  "It's  that  fairy 
with  the  golden  hair,  wavy  and  bright,  with  the  eyes 
of  turquoise  or  was  it  sapphire,  with  the  aureole  of 
joy  and  so  forth,  that  began  to  give  you  so  much  con- 
cern just  about  eight  months  ago." 

"  Yes,  indeed.  Only  eight  short  months  and  it 
seems  like  a  lifetime.  Isn't  it  queer.  Lady,  how  one 
forgets  such  little  things  as  the  colour  of  hair  and  eyes 
— how  they  are  swallowed  up  in  the  personality? 
Now,  if  you  hadn't  reminded  me,  I'm  not  sure  I  could 
have  told  about  those  colours.  I  never  think  of  'em; 
they  are  now  simply  a  part  of  a  glorious  being.  I 
merely  think  of  her  as  the  embodiment  of  all  that  is 
beautiful,  the  crown  of  perfection,  the  one  desirable 
above  all  desire,  the  greatest  grace  of  nature's " 

"  You  may  stop  right  there,  Johnny.  That  is  worse 
than  the  golden  hair  and  turquoise  eyes.  Do  you  think 
I  have  nothing  to  do  but  listen  to  your  rhapsodies  ?  " 

"  Lady,  I  will  be  frank  with  you.  This  is  going  to 
be  a  great  day  for  me;  the  calendar  makers  will  all 
have  to  get  out  new  stuff  showing  this  date  in  letters 
of  sapphire  blue  with  a  circle  of  pure  gold.  It  may 
not  be  a  legal  holiday,  but  it  will  be  a  holiday  from 
legal  work.  Work  is  a  shocking  thing  to  contemplate 
at  such  a  time.  I  supposed,  with  Dave  and  Elsie  com- 
ing, you  would  feel  about  as  I  do;  and  here  you  talk 
about   work." 

''  And  I  must  do  more  than  talk  about  it.    There's 


256  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

a  thousand  things  to  be  done  around  this  place  before 
any  one  gets  here,  Johnny  Langston." 

"  Have  your  own  way  about  it,  Lady.  Perhaps 
you  would  like  me  to  help  you  in  some  of  these 
things?'' 

"  No,  Johnny,  I  can't  say  that  I  would.  I  know  of 
but  one  way  in  which  you  could  be  really  helpful  to 
me  and  politeness  forbids  any  direct  mention  of 
that." 

"  Don't  spare  me  for  the  sake  of  politeness.  Say 
it  right  out.  '  Get  out  of  here,'  or  *  Shoo,'  or  *  Scat,' 
or  any  other  well-tried  formula.  If  I  go.  Lady,  I 
take  with  me  this  sprout  of  the  house  of  Goodman." 

"  What  did  you  call  that  baby,  Mr.  Langston?  " 

"  I  said  *  sprout,'  but  it  was  unintentional.  I  should 
have  said  *  scion '  which  means  just  the  same  and 
sounds  nicer :  '  Scion  of  the  house  of  Goodman.'  " 

"  Much  better.  Perhaps  you  would  better  tell  me 
just  what  you  want  me  to  do  for  you." 

**  You  always  do  attribute  motives  to  me.  Lady.  I 
might  just  as  well  be  guilty  as  innocent.  All  that  I 
want  is  a  little  accommodation." 

"  I  knew  there  was  something.     Tell  it  right  out.'* 

"  Well,  you  see  what  kind  of  a  day  it  is.  This  is  the 
first  day  in  weeks  that  the  roads  have  been  passable. 
They're  still  pretty  rough  for  tires,  but  last  night's 
frost  has  made  them  hard  enough  so  they  will  hold 
a  machine  up  all  right." 

"  Yes,  and  there  will  be  ways  to  put  your  machine 
and  its  chauffeur  to  work.  There  will  be  quite  a  load 
of  people  to  go  out  to  The  Castle." 

"  Right  there  is  where  Johnny  needs  your  help.  For 
this  once  all  seats  in  the  grey  car  are  reserved.  It  is 
a  private  car." 


CELEBRATES  ST.  VALENTINE'S  DAY     257 

"  That's  very  unsociable  at  a  time  like  this,  Johnny, 
and  I'd  like  to  know  why." 

*'  Very  well,  Lady.  Listen  to  my  life's  secret.  Let 
us  have  everything  very  quiet.  Dismiss  all  extraneous 
thoughts.  I  am  about  to  tell  you  all.  Wait!  Come 
back  here !    Where  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  I  am  going  to  attend  to  my  business  until  you  get 
through  with  your  foolishness." 

"  This  isn't  foolishness,  Lady.  This  is  serious  ear- 
nest. Consider  our  situation  a  moment.  Out  at  The 
Castle  are  the  old  doctor,  Bissington  Jones,  Cass 
Banks,  and  several  interested  patients.  Here  in  La- 
tham Centre  is  Mrs.  Goodman  and  Doctor  Goodman, 
who  is  the  owner  of  a  very  good  five-passenger  car 
and  can  use  only  three  seats  in  it.  Coming  on  the 
next  train  are  Doctor  David  Williams  and  wife,  the 
two  other  persons  needed  to  fill  Doctor  Goodman's 
car.  Also  comes  Miss  Gladys  Standlaws,  who  is  clearly 
an  extra.  For  her  benefit  a  handsome,  grey  car  is  held 
in  special  reserve.  Now,  I  fear  that,  unless  properly 
manipulated,  some  foolish  ordinary  person  will  make 
an  efifort  to  get  into  the  grey  car,  in  which  event  its 
chauffeur  would  have  a  fit  and  be  unable  to  proceed.'* 

"  Exactly;  and  you  want  me  to  be  the  manipulator, 
and  crowd  four  great  big  grown  people  and  one  big 
baby  into  our  poor  old  machine,  to  the  peril  of  its 
springs,  while  you  run  that  handsome  touring-car  with 
no  occupant  but  a  hundred  and  ten  pound  fairy.  For 
shame ! " 

"  Not  for  shame.  Lady.  To-day  is  a  special  day. 
You  don't  understand  just  why.  You  think  this  visit 
to  The  Castle  is  the  only  important  thing  that's  going 
to  happen  to-day,  but  I  have  a  much  more  important 
matter." 


S58  THE    CASTLE   OF   CHEER 

"Will  it  end  in  anything  important?" 

"  It  will  end  in  the  most  important  thing  in  the 
world.'* 

"  Important  to  Johnny  Langston,  you  mean.  I  won't 
promise  to  help  you  at  all." 

But,  in  some  way,  when  the  train  came  in  and  the 
clamour  and  confusion  of  all  manner  of  greetings 
had  subsided,  Johnny  found  that  she  had  managed  to 
give  him  his  one  and  only  passenger. 

"Aren't  some  of  the  rest  coming?"  asked  Gladys, 
just  as  she  had  asked  the  question  once  before. 

"  They  are  going  with  Doctor  Goodman,"  replied 
the  chauffeur.  "  The  doctor  can  only  take  two  in  his 
car  besides  himself,  Mrs.  Goodman,  and  the  baby,  so 
of  course  that  leaves  you  out.  But  I'll  look  after  you. 
I'm  a  good  driver." 

"  I've  understood  that  you  were,"  she  rephed.  "  But 
this  isn't  the  road  to  The  Castle." 

"  It's  just  as  good  a  way,"  he  assured  her.  "  It's 
quiet  but  it's  very  nice." 

"Very  well.  You  may  tell  me  all  that  has  hap- 
pened in  Chicago  since  I  left." 

"  We  have  begun  to  distribute  the  money.  We 
divided  two  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  dollars 
among  nine  hundred  people  in  the  first  two  weeks. 
We  have  heard  from  many  of  them  in  reply.  They  do 
not  know  what  to  make  of  it.  Many  of  them  think 
there  is  a  trap  of  some  kind.  They  refuse  to  deposit 
our  checks  in  the  bank." 

"  Poor  people !  I  suppose  they  are  '  once  bitten, 
twice  shy.'    Is  Mary  happy  about  it  ?  " 

"  Mary  is  reasonably  happy,  although  by  no  means 
satisfied.  She  is  very  particular,  you  know.  She  feels 
that  she  is  executing  a  trust.    She  gives  strict  instruc- 


CELEBRATES  ST.  VALENTINE'S  DAY     259 

tions  to  see  that  no  one  gets  the  refunded  money  but 
the  rightful  claimants,  and  she  is  worrying  now  be- 
cause the  newspaper  stories  have  flooded  us  with  im- 
postors, and  we  have  to  spend  a  lot  of  time  investigat- 
mg. 

"  She  will  be  happy  when  all  of  this  is  done,  though." 

"Do  you  think  so?" 

There  was  a  note  in  the  young  man's  voice  that 
caused  Gladys  to  look  into  his  face  in  surprise. 

**  Do  you  think  not  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Is  there  a  very  happy  prospect  ahead  ?  "  he  asked. 
"  She  goes  on  for  four  or  five  months  giving  back  this 
money.  The  three  years  are  up.  The  remainder  of  the 
estate  reverts  to  the  trustees.  She  is  again  a  penni- 
less nurse.  She  has  done  what  she  can,  but  in  the 
doing  she  has  stirred  up  a  multitude  of  claims  and 
claimants  and  their  cries  for  restitution  fill  the  air  and 
reach  her  wherever  she  goes.    Will  she  be  happy?  " 

Gladys  presented  a  very  sober  face. 

"  Oh,  Fm  afraid  not,"  she  murmured.  "  I  fear 
that  she  will  be  disappointed.  She  can  only  have  hap- 
piness if  she  continues  in  possession  of  the  fortune. 
These  claims  will  run  on  for  years  and  years." 

"  And  you  know  what  condition  she  must  meet  to 
continue  in  the  fortune  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  She  must  marry  Vance  Doane.  But  is 
that  such  an  awful  thing?  He  used  to  be  a  rather 
decent  fellow  and  if " 

"  Would  you  be  happy  in  marrying  him  ?  "  asked  the 
chauffeur,  bringing  his  machine  to  a  sudden  stop. 

"Oh,  no!"  replied  the  fairy.  "But  that's  dif- 
ferent.   Why  are  we  stopping?  " 

"  Partly  to  argue  this  question  and  partly  because 
there  is  some  scenery  here,  just  around  the  bend,  that 


260  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

I  want  you  to  look  at.  Tell  me,  why  is  it  differ- 
ent?" 

"  Oh,  it's  different  because — because " 

"  Because  you  belong  to  some  one  else,"  he  cried, 
holding  out  his  hand  to  help  her  down. 

"  Thank  you,  but  I  don't  believe  I'll  get  out  of  the 
car.  I  don't  seem  to  care  for  scenery  to-day,"  she  ex- 
postulated, a  sudden  rush  of  memory  quickening  her 
faculties. 

"  As  you  please.  It  isn't  necessary  that  you  should 
see  it.    It  is  just  the  same " 

"  It's  the  piece  of  real  estate  that  goes  with  Johnny 
Langston,  isn't  it  ?  "  she  interrupted  mischievously. 

"  How  you  do  help  me  out.  But  don't  think  Johnny 
is  going  to  make  the  mistake  of  again  offering  it  with 
himself  conditional.  One  mistake  of  that  kind  is 
enough." 

"  You  haven't  made  any  mistake,"  she  faltered. 

"  I'm  not  going  to  make  any,"  he  assured  her. 
"  Houses  and  lands  are  trifling  matters  to-day.  They 
are  things  to  give  away.  We  will  give  this  away  if 
you  say  so.  But  that  isn't  what  I  want  to  say.  I  want 
you  to  understand  that  I'm  in  serious  earnest  now, 
Gladys.  I  am  offering  you  to-day  all  the  honour  and 
love  that  a  man  can  offer  to  the  woman  who  makes  life 
to  him  either  sunshine  or  gloom  as  she  happens  to  be 
present  or  absent;  a  strong  conviction  that  I  am  the  one 
man  who  can  give  you  most  devoted  service  and  an 
absolute  knowledge  that  you  are  the  one  woman  who 
can  make  my  life  worth  while.  Will  you  take  it, 
Gladys?" 

Gladys  sat  very  still  in  the  front  seat,  next  the  one 
which  the  driver  had  resumed.  Her  lips  quivered  and 
the  dew  of  emotion  glistened  in  the  beautiful  eyes 


CELEBRATES  ST.  VALENTINE'S  DAY     261 

which  looked  bravely  up  at  him.  And  she  needed  to 
say  no  single  word  as  Johnny's  arm  encircled  her  in  his 
honest  embrace. 

"  There's  one  other  thing,"  he  said  a  few  moments 
later,  when  he  allowed  her  to  lift  her  head  from  his 
shoulder.  "  This  is  the  great  day — St.  Valentine's 
Day — you  remember  the  gift  you  wouldn't  take  at 
Christmas  and  I  said  you  should  have  it  again  on 
Valentine's  Day.  It  sparkles  just  as  bright  as  ever. 
Try  it  on.    I  want  to  see  if  it  fits." 

"  Oh,  Johnny,  you  foolish  boy,"  she  assured  him. 
"Of  course  it  does.  I've  known  that  ever  since  Christ- 
man  Eve." 

*' And  never  told  me!"  exclaimed  Johnny.  "For 
that  you  pay "  " 


XL 

"  KEEP  A-HAMMERIN' " 

WAS  it  the  sentiment  of  the  day  that  led  Milton 
Stroud  to  seek  an  interview  with  Mary 
Standlaws  on  this  same  fourteenth  of  Feb- 
ruary? It  was  willingly  granted,  for  Mary  had  not 
stilled  the  cravings  of  her  heart. 

"  The  work  is  satisfactory  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  It  is  wonderful,"  she  replied.  *'  The  people  are 
unable  to  comprehend  it." 

"  I  am  not  surprised,"  said  he.  ''  And  this  Mr. 
Doane  who  is  helping.    Does  he  seem  to  be  honest?  " 

"  I  believe  Mr.  Doane  to  be  quite  sincere,"  responded 
Mary,  a  little  coldly,  for  her  many  tilts  with  Johnny 
had  made  the  subject  sore  to  pressure.  "  His  help  is  in- 
valuable to  us  at  this  time,  and  more  than  that,  he  him- 
self is  given  the  chance  that  my  dear  father  would  so 
joyfully  have  welcomed." 

"  And  I  am  going  to  ask  you  to  leave  it  with  him, 
Mary.  I  am  here  for  a  purpose  to-day,  the  purpose  of 
asking  you  to  come  to  me  as  my  wife.  I  am  a  man. 
I  need  a  mate.  I  need  you  and  I  must  have  you. 
It  is  God's  will  both  for  me  and  for  you/' 

"  Milton,  are  you  sure  of  that?  " 

She  looked  steadfastly  at  him.  Never  before  had 
she  so  used  his  name,  but  it  did  not  stir  his  heart  to 
passion,  for  the  voice  in  which  it  came  was  like  the 
voice  that  called  out  of  the  stillness  of  the  night, 
"Samuel!    Samuel!" 

263 


"KEEP    A-HAMMERIN'"  263 

He  began  to  argue  the  matter. 

"  Why  not  ?  Get  away  from  the  whole  filthy  busi- 
ness. Here  is  a  man  who  says  that  he  has  decided  to 
turn  from  his  career  of  infamy,  and  be  decent.  Can 
you  not  leave  the  whole  thing  to  him  ?  " 

And  her  reply  was,  "Can  I,  Milton?" 

"I  suppose  you  think  he  might  be  too  weak;  you 
think  he  might  consider  that  we  should  not  leave  him 
without  support.  He  might  be  tempted  by  the  money. 
Many  people  have  intimated  that  I  am  so  tempted. 
They  think  that  I  want  to  marry  you  because  I  have 
some  mysterious  plan  of  seizing  the  entire  estate.  I 
would  not  have  a  penny  of  the  money.  All  that  I  ask  is 
that  you  leave  it  all.  Let  Doane  distribute  it  alone, 
and  you  come  to  take  your  place  as  my  wife.'' 

"  And  do  you  think  I  could  desert  this  trust  now 
that  it  has  come  to  me  ?  '' 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  trust  ?  Do  you  mean  the 
Doane  will?  Are  you  going  to  meet  all  of  its  condi- 
tions even  to  the  last?" 

At  last  the  secret  was  out.  It  was  torture  to  think 
of  her  working  in  harmony  with  Doane,  and  all  the 
time  facing  the  temptation  of  that  will.  He  wanted 
her  to  drop  it  all  and  come  to  him. 

She  looked  at  him  in  grieved  surprise.  He  was  all 
contrition. 

"  Oh,  forgive  my  foolish  words,"  he  cried.  "  My 
heart  is  sore  because  of  my  longings  which  seem  to 
find  so  little  response.  Will  you  end  it  for  me  by  giv- 
ing me  your  promise  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Stroud,  you  would  not  ask  if  you  understood. 
I  have  a  work  here — a  sacred  trust.  I  am  chained  to 
it.  These  letters  that  pour  in  upon  us  only  bind  me 
the  stronger.    I  can't  leave  it." 


S64  THE   CASTLE   OF   CHEER 

"  Then  I  will  say  good-bye,"  he  said,  gravely.  "  One 
thing  let  me  say  as  a  last  word.  Be  very  watchful  of 
this  man  Doane.  If  you  need  a  helper  I  am  at  your 
call." 

Involuntarily  he  squared  his  shoulders  as  if  prepar- 
ing for  a  new  burden.  Then  he  stepped  from  the 
room  and  was  gone. 

Out  in  the  busy  street  Stroud  stepped  along  mechan- 
ically, seeing  sufficiently  to  preserve  motor  control  but 
comprehending  neither  persons  nor  things.  It  was  the 
same  on  the  street-car,  until  slipping  automatically  into 
a  vacant  seat  he  acquired  as  seatmate  one  of  the  lambs 
of  his  flock.  Although  his  recognition  was  slow,  hers 
was  very  prompt,  and  she  speedily  brought  him  down 
from  the  clouds. 

"  Fm  afraid  you  don't  see  your  friends  to-day.  Rev- 
erend Stroud,"  she  said  in  a  cheerful  voice.  "  It's  all 
right  to  be  looking  up  most  o'  the  time,  but  when  you 
want  to  meet  us  everyday  people  you  have  to  look 
down.  I  wish't  you'd  look  as  glad  to  see  me  as  I  am 
to  see  you;  honest,  I  do." 

"  I'm  sure  it's  a  great  pleasure,  Miss  Jolley,"  the 
shepherd  responded,  gradually  coming  out  of  his 
trance. 

"  I'll  take  your  word  for  it,  Reverend,  even  if  your 
looks  is  all  against  it,"  said  the  little  lady.  "  Did  you 
know  I  was  coming  to  your  church  now?" 

"  I'm  afraid  I've  been  a  little  backward  in  meeting 
every  one,"  apologized  the  minister;  *' but  I  did  see 
you  there  one  evening.  You  sat  in  an  end  seat,  right 
on  the  aisle." 

"  Yes,  I  was  right  behind  that  terrible  sinner  you 
converted  that  night — leastways  you  did  with  the  help 
of  a  ministering  angel." 


"KEEP   A-HAMMERIN'"  «65 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  quite  understand,"  said  Mr. 
Stroud.  "  Of  course  I  see  the  propriety  of  including 
ministering  angels  in  any  conversion,  but  why  par- 
ticularly in  this  ?  " 

"  Oh,  nothing.  Only  the  angel  did  more  than  is 
common,  I  guarantee.  Whispered  things  to  him,  you 
know — told  him  that  was  the  way  to  win  back  public 
confidence — kind  of  egged  him  on  to  the  deed." 

"  You  seem  to  be  remarkably  well  informed  about 
the  angel's  doings  ?  "    Stroud  smiled  as  he  spoke. 

"  I  am,"  admitted  Miss  Jolley.  "  You  see,  I  was 
the  angel." 

Encouraged  by  her  pastor's  approval.  Miss  Jolley 
went  on  to  tell  of  her  own  affairs. 

"  We've  moved,"  she  announced.  "  Brother  has  a 
better  store  and  I  have  a  perfectly  splendid  place  for 
a  sleeping-porch.  And  all  along  o'  them  Oxyjuvenator 
things.  It  was  better'n  putting  money  in  the  Building 
and  Loan.     Honest,  it  was !  " 

*'  You  had  bought  one  of  the  instruments  ?  " 

"  I  hate  to  admit  it,  but  I  was  one  o'  them  that  bit. 
But  the  money  we  got  back  is  something  incredulous. 
Johnny  Langston  fixed  us  up  and  I  can't  help  feel  that 
he  and  Miss  Mary  stretched  the  figures  for  us.  But 
goodness  knows,  we  needed  the  money  so  bad  I  just 
didn't  dare  say  anything  stronger  than  oh ! " 

"  It  has  helped  you  to  new  quarters  ?  " 

**  It's  just  been  the  makin'  of  us.  Honest  to  good- 
ness, that  Miss  Mary  is  a  perfect  angel.  Do  you  know, 
Reverend  Stroud,  one  reason  I  came  over  to  your 
church  was  expecting  Miss  Mary  to  be  the  pastor's 
wife.     When's  she  coming?" 

Stroud's  thoughts  flew  back  to  the  time — months 
ago — when  the  bright  little  woman  had  so  kindly 


^66  THE    CASTLE   OF   CHEER 

volunteered  her  aid,  and  he  could  take  no  offence  at  the 
question. 

"  I  don't  know  that  she  will  ever  come,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  she  will  if  you  want  her,"  insisted  Miss  Jol- 
ley,  divining  the  status  of  affairs.  "  She's  yours.  Rev- 
erend Stroud,  I  guarantee.  I've  known  it  since  the 
day  I  watched  her  looking  at  you  when  you  was  sick 
abed  at  The  Castle." 

"  I'm  glad  you  think  so." 

"  Oh,  I  know  so.  Honest  to  goodness,  all  you  got 
to  do  is  to  keep  a-hammerin'.  The  money  don't  make 
no  difference.    Keep  a-hammerin'." 

And  as  the  car  stopped  for  the  angel  to  alight  at  her 
corner,  the  Reverend  Milton  Stroud  mentally  affirmed 
that  he  would  keep  a-hammerin'. 


XLI 
A  HONEYMOON  IN  CHICAGO 

JOHN  CALHOUN  LANGSTON  and  his  charm- 
ing young  bride  were  spending  their  honeymoon 
in  Chicago.  Chicago!  Certainly.  It  is  a  beau- 
tiful place  for  a  honeymoon  for  the  initiated  who  know 
how  and  where  to  seek  the  quiet  beauty  and  peace  and 
culture  and  refinement  which  is  concealed  beneath 
its  armour-plate  of  booming  projects  and  gigantic  per- 
formances. And  Johnny  and  Gladys,  both  knowing 
Chicago  very  well,  were  among  the  initiated. 

But  the  special  reason  for  their  choice  was  the  pres- 
ence of  Mary.  They  felt  that  she  needed  their  sup- 
port and  a  touch  of  their  happiness.  They  lived  in  her 
beautiful  mansion,  and  the  fairy  bride  revelled  in  a 
return  to  the  luxury  in  which  she  had  been  reared. 
They  filled  the  great  house  with  happiness  and  laugh- 
ter. The  rose-tint  of  their  honeymoon  spread  itself 
over  Mary's  projects  in  the  early  hours  of  morning 
and  in  the  evening  they  insisted  that  she  join  them 
in  their  bridal  excursions  and  froHcs.  Yet  Mary  was 
not  happy.  Gladys  knew  it,  and  so  of  course  did  her 
lawyer  husband,  who  was  still  his  sister-in-law's  legal 
adviser. 

"  She  has  a  good  time  but  she  isn't  happy  like  I 
am,"  Gladys  told  Johnny. 

"  It  would  be  different,  perhaps,  if  she  had  as  much 
cause  for  happiness,"  said  the  bridegroom,  compla- 
cently patting  his  chest. 

267 


^68  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

"  Conceited  boy !  You  belong  to  Mary  as  well  as  to 
me.    Why  can't  you  make  her  happy,  too?  " 

"  Fm  not  just  the  man  for  it,"  admitted  Johnny. 

"  Do  you  think  Mr.  Stroud  is  ?  " 

"  What  I  think  makes  very  little  difference  unless  she 
thinks  so  too.  Stroud  intimates  that  she  has  told  him 
that  her  mission  comes  first." 

"  I  know  just  exactly  what  she  told  Mr.  Stroud.  He 
is  very  easily  put  off,  I  think.  You  would  suppose 
that  a  man  who  is  cffering  himself  against  milHons  of 
dollars  would  be  a  little  more  aggressive." 

"  Not  Stroud's  kind  of  a  man.  That's  just  the  rea- 
son he  would  not  be." 

"  Vance  Doane  isn't  held  back  by  any  such  delicacy. 
But  of  course  he  is  bringing  millions  instead  of  tak- 
ing them  away." 

"  You  don't  think  she  will  agree  to  marry  that  man, 
Gladys?" 

"  I  didn't  say  she  would;  but  you  couldn't  blame  her. 
What  is  the  poor  girl  to  do?  Here's  the  time  almost 
gone — scarcely  a  month  left.  She's  anxious  to  fill 
father's  wishes,  and  I  can  see  other  things  too  that 
would  tempt  her.  I  tell  you,  Mr.  John  Langston,  since 
I've  been  living  in  this  beautiful  home  and  having 
everything  just  like  I  used  to  years  ago,  I  should  just 
dislike  terribly  to  go  back  to  nursing  in  an  institu- 
tion." 

"  Don't  be  afraid,  little  girl,  you  aren't  going  back 
to  it." 

"  I'm  not  afraid ;  and  I  suppose  I  ought  to  be 
ashamed  to  say  such  things,  because  nursing  is  just 
grand  and  I  was  always  happy.  But  oh,  these  beauti- 
ful things — ^how  lovely  they  do  seem  when  you  have 
them  again !    I'm  afraid  I  never  could  give  them  up, 


A   HONEYMOON    IN    CHICAGO         269 

and  it's  going  to  be  a  horrible  temptation  even  to 
Mary." 

"  But  you  wouldn't  have  her  marry  Doane  ?  " 

*'  Why  not  ?  I  can  remember  when  she  was  en- 
gaged to  Vance  and  we  all  liked  him  well  enough. 
You  just  seem  terribly  unreasonable  about  that  poor 
man." 

"  Perhaps  you  don't  remember  that  he's  the  man  I 
rescued  you  from." 

"  Rescued  me !  Hear  the  boy  talk.  Rescued  me ! 
I  just  knew  you  were  conceited.  I  suppose  you  will 
talk  about  that  rescue  as  long  as  we  live.  I  just  want 
you  to  remember,  my  dear  husband,  that  if  you  do  no 
better  work  pursuing  the  next  man  who  runs  away 
with  me  you  may  go  wifeless  all  your  days." 

"  Don't  worry,  little  girl,  you  are  never  go- 
ing out  of  my  sight  again.  I  wish  Mary  was  as 
safe." 

"Of  course  if  she  doesn't  marry  and  keep  the  for- 
tune it  won't  be  as  bad  for  her  as  it  would  be  for  a 
butterfly  thing  like  me.  She  always  did  love  nursing 
and  I  suppose  she  will  be  happy  again." 

"  I'm  not  so  sure,  my  dear.  You  have  to  work  your 
imagination  a  little  to  put  yourself  in  her  place.  She 
regards  it  as  her  peculiar  mission  to  see  that  repara- 
tion is  made  to  all  who  suffered  by  the  Oxyjuvenator 
business.  There  were  thousands  of  them.  We  have 
reached  a  great  many,  but  letters  continue  to  pour  in. 
They  will  not  stop  because  she  is  poor.  Some  of  them 
will  be  cases  of  real  merit  such  as  will  tear  the  heart 
of  a  sensitive  woman  like  Mary.  She  might  escape 
from  mail,  but  people  will  continue  to  seek  her  in  per- 
son, and  as  a  poor  woman,  without  the  protection  of 
a  large  establishment,  she  will  be  far  more  at  their 


270  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

mercy  than  now.     A  perfect  avalanche  has  started 
sHpping.    I  don't  know  what  will  ever  stop  it." 
"  We  will  take  her  away  then,  and  hide  her." 
''  Yes,  I  imagine  you  hiding  your  little  sister  Mary 
under  your  protecting  wing." 

"  Well,  then  she  must  marry  Vance  and  keep  the 
money  at  its  useful  work." 

"  And  thus  submit  herself  to  a  life  of  greater  misery 
than  all  the  outsiders  in  the  world  could  put  upon 
her!" 

"  You  are  so  sure  that  he  is  insincere." 
"  I  cannot  feel  any  other  way  about  him." 
"  Yet  he  has  helped  distribute  a  lot  of  the  Doane 
fortune  and  you  said  yourself  that  he  seemed  quite 
active  about  it.     Doesn't  that  seem  like  sincerity  ?  " 

"  He  has  helped  us  to  give  away  nearly  three  mil- 
lion dollars,  but  that  hardly  dents  the  Doane  fortune. 
I  have  never  supposed  him  to  be  a  common  rogue. 
He  is  the  kind  of  a  clever  man  who  would  play  his 
part  so  perfectly  that  the  only  possible  weakness  in  it 
would  be  a  little  overdoing.  I  think  he  is  overdoing 
it  now." 

"  Yes,  I  know  you  do.    But  Mary  doesn't." 
"  No,  Mary  believes  him  sincere.     She  puts  him  in 
your  father's  place  and  every  time  he  makes  a  particu- 
larly good  stroke  she  is  greatly  rejoiced  for  the  very 
reason  that  she  sees  her  father  doing  it.'* 

"  Perhaps,  but  Mary  isn't  thinking  of  Vance  Doane 
as  a  father,  not  by  any  means."  And  this  was  said  in 
a  tone  that  might  well  be  significant  of  inside  informa- 
tion. 


XLII 
TWENTY-FOUR  HOURS^  GRACE 

1ET  us  now  study  the  case  of  Mary  Standlaws. 
The  time  when  she  must  definitely  decide  to 
■^  marry  Henry  Vancil  Doane  or  utterly  renounce 
the  Doane  fortune  is  at  hand.  She  is  in  the  last 
month.  As  to  her  heart — ^but  we  are  not  considering 
her  heart  at  this  time,  we  are  trying  to  draw  conclu- 
sions of  logic.  If  she  does  not  marry  Doane  she  must, 
in  a  few  weeks,  go  back  to  her  occupation  as  a  nurse — 
no  terrible  prospect,  for  she  has  spent  happy  years  in 
that  vocation.  But  she  will  go  back  with  her  father's 
purpose  only  partially  fulfilled. 

And  why  should  she  go  back?  Here  is  a  man 
anxious  to  keep  her — a  man  not  ill-favoured,  not  with- 
out charm,  one  to  whom  she  once  committed  her  trust 
and  whom,  once  on  a  time,  she  confidently  expected  to 
marry.  He  has  been  astray — far  astray — but  he  has 
returned  and  with  such  penitence  as  seems  amazing; 
and  no  one  better  knows  how  to  admire  a  penitent  sin- 
ner than  Mary  Standlaws.  So  earnest  is  he  that  he 
is  now  engaged  in  giving  away  all  of  his  money.  He 
is  very  humble.  He  is  very  desirous  to  atone  for  the 
past.  Yet  he  makes  no  effort  to  conceal  that  the  great- 
est, most  intense  desire  of  his  life  is  that  she  will 
marry  him.  If  she  does  he  is  a  wealthy  man  and  able 
to  accomplish  great  benefactions  with  his  wealth.  If 
she  does  not,  he,  who  is  nobly  giving  away  his  family 

271 


^n  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

fortune,  has  no  fortune,  is  at  once  a  beggar.  Shall  she 
make  him  a  beggar  ? 

There  is  yet  another  argument.  Shall  she  make  her- 
self a  beggar?  Should  she  do  so  she  may  continue 
her  humble  ministrations  as  a  nurse  and  possibly  satisfy 
herself  that  she  is  living  a  life  of  devotion.  But  should 
she  yield  to  the  desires  of  this  repentant,  self-effacing 
man  and  marry  him,  she  is  placed  in  such  a  position 
that  she  may  be  one  of  the  great  benefactors  of  the 
age.  She  may  positively  fulfil  her  father's  desire  to 
restore  fourfold — fulfil  it  to  the  last  possible  finality 
— and  even  then  have  money  left  for  public  benefac- 
tions. She  will  be  in  the  public  eye,  she  will  be  hon- 
oured by  all,  she  will  have  great  influence  in  any  enter- 
prise that  meets  her  favour,  she  will  be  able  to  gratify 
every  wish.  And  this  in  contrast  to  the  grey  routine 
of  an  everyday  nurse  who,  indeed,  is  respected  and 
honoured,  yet  must  often  be  weary  unto  death,  and 
with  incredible  swiftness  runs  to  meet  the  time  when 
she  shall  be  laid  aside  as  a  thing  of  outlived  useful- 
ness. 

Ponder  these  things  as  you  think  of  Mary  Stand- 
laws,  especially  if  your  hearts  are  inclined  to  cen- 
sure if  her  negative  should  be  no  longer  very  posi- 
tive. 

Let  us  also  consider  Henry  Vancil  Doane,  better 
known  to  this  record  as  Doctor  Middane.  It  is  not 
given  to  us  to  know  the  thoughts  and  emotions  that 
inspired  him  when  he  rose  at  the  conclusion  of  Milton 
Stroud*s  sermon  and  claimed  a  new  life.  How  mixed 
were  his  purposes,  how  greatly  influenced  by  the  soft- 
ened spirit  carried  from  the  death  scene  of  a  recent 
day,  how  much  actuated  by  worldly  motives  such  as 
were  whispered  by  "  the  angel "  who  suggested  that 


TWENTY-FOUR    HOURS'    GRACE       273 

the  step  would  square  him  with  the  world — these 
things  we  may  never  know. 

But  he  takes  up  daily  work  that  is  in  absolute  con- 
travention to  all  his  prior  business  principles.  Where 
he  has  strained  his  nerves  to  cheat  he  now  tries  to  be 
generous ;  where  he  has  taxed  his  ingenuity  to  steal  the 
people's  money  he  must  now  use  more  ingenuity  in 
giving  back  certain  amounts  to  certain  people  and 
to  none  other.  What  a  change  comes  over  the  spirit  of 
his  work.  No  longer  is  it  necessary  for  him  to  issue 
secret  instructions  to  agents,  no  longer  requisite  to 
find  a  fresh  lie  for  every  new  letter,  to  review  earlier 
correspondence  with  great  care  to  ensure  one  lie  bear- 
ing out  the  other.  No  longer  is  his  mail  a  mass  of 
complaints  which  must  be  brazenly  ignored  or  ingeni- 
ously palliated.  He  can  walk  the  streets  now  as  a 
man  among  men.  If  a  finger  points  at  him  it  is  that  of 
wonder — possibly  admiration — rather  than  derision 
and  scorn.  He  is  hiding  nothing,  he  has  nothing  to 
conceal.  The  public  knows  all  about  his  affairs  and 
rather  respects  his  stand. 

If  there  were  the  weakest  root  of  sincerity  in  his 
profession  of  conversion,  Doane  could  not  possibly 
have  been  more  fortunate  in  a  system  of  nourishing 
and  developing  that  root,  than  by  entering  upon  a 
course  which  forced  him  to  give  away  money  which 
he  might  well  look  upon  as  his  own,  and  receive  in 
return  the  gratitude,  thanks,  and  blessings  of  the 
wronged  yet  forgiving  people;  acting,  indeed,  as  one 
who  sought  to  bring  forth  fruits  meet  for  repent- 
ance. 

One  other  ennobling  influence  urged  the  man  to 
truth  and  sincerity,  and  that  was  the  daily  companion- 
ship of  Mary.    There  is  no  need  to  question  the  sin- 


274  THE    CASTLE   OF    CHEER 

cerity  of  his  love  for  her;  it  was  no  task  for  any  man  of 
the  least  degree  of  eligibility.  And  in  view  of  the  will 
of  his  father  and  its  conditional  clause,  Doane  felt 
himself  decidedly  eligible. 

Mary  spent  a  portion  of  each  working  day  at  the 
Oxyjuvenator  office,  as  also  did  Johnny.  There  was 
an  immense  mail,  much  of  which  demanded  their  per- 
sonal inspection. 

The  letters  were  of  all  varieties,  in  all  degrees  of 
orthography,  in  many  different  languages,  amusing, 
effusive,  abusive,  pathetic,  tragic,  ludicrous;  they 
struck  every  note  of  human  interest. 

One  that  Mary  read  with  some  amusement  showed 
that  at  least  one  acquaintance  existed  who  made  no 
personal  connection  between  her  and  the  Oxy- 
juvenator Co. 

Dear  Sir:  I  am  a  single  lady  (not  because  I  have 
had  no  chance  to  be  otherwise)  who  is  much  in  need 
of  about  a  hundred  dollars.  I  did  not  buy  an  Oxyju- 
venator but  I  have  always  felt  that  I  missed  a  great 
opportunity  in  not  patronizing  your  wonderful — for  I 
am  sure  it  must  be  wonderful — instrument.  I  bought 
several  other  Oxy  things  and  I  can  send  you  receipts 
to  show  that  I  have  always  been  a  liberal  patron  (per- 
haps I  should  say  patroness  being  a  lady)  of  all  such 
things  as  were  brought  before  the  public.  I  therefore 
claim  my  share  of  the  profits  you  are  distributing  and 
the  more  so  since  I  have  only  recently  left  an  expensive 
sanatorium  where  I  spent  thousands  of  dollars  ("  Oh, 
the  fibber !  "  said  Mary)  in  pursuit  of  my  health. 

It  was  not  the  purpose  to  pay  any  wild  claims  of 
this  nature,  though  many  were  received.     To  guard 


TWENTY-FOUR    HOURS'    GRACE       275 

against  imposition  a  requirement  of  the  refund  was  the 
return  of  the  instrument  purchased.  This  requirement 
brought  forth  some  singular,  even  surprising  letters. 
For  instance: 


Oxyjuvenator  Co. 

Dear  Sir:  I  am  willing  to  admit  that  I  do  not  ex- 
actly see  through  your  scheme  in  asking  me  to  return 
the  Oxyjuvenator  I  bought  and  promising  to  refund 
the  price.  I  have  not  asked  you  to  make  any  refund. 
I  can  only  suppose  that  you  are  all  sold  out  and  have 
lost  the  secret  of  the  invention.  I  want  to  tell  you  that 
I  would  not  take  a  thousand  dollars  for  this  little  in- 
strument which  has  cured  all  our  family  ailments  and 
those  of  many  neighbours  for  nearly  ten  years.  One 
thing  sure — you  can't  have  it. 

"  You  see  they  don't  all  think  themselves  swindled," 
said  Johnny,  as  he  handed  Mary  the  letter.  "  Here's 
another  very  much  like  it." 

Dear  Sir:  I  do  not  understand  why  you  are  trying  to 
refund  the  purchase  price  of  the  Oxyjuvenator  out- 
fits, but  allow  me  to  assure  you  that  you  are  making 
a  very  great  mistake.  No  one  can  possibly  have  over- 
paid for  this  instrument.  We  have  used  one  in  our 
family  for  six  years  and  would  not  be  without  it. 

But  though  there  came  several  letters  of  such  tenor 
the  amusement  they  inspired  was  quickly  overwhelmed 
by  the  tragic  tone  which  ran  through  many  of  the 
pathetic  screeds. 


ne  THE    CASTLE    OF   CHEER 

Dear  Sir:  I  was  glad  to  get  your  cheque.  My  hus- 
band who  bought  your  outfit  was  a  real  sick  man  when 
he  bought  it  and  maybe  that's  why  it  never  done  him 
any  good.  We  have  never  been  able  to  put  a  stone  to 
his  grave  and  your  money  will  give  us  the  chance. 

The  touch  of  sadness  this  produced  was  a  little  re- 
lieved by  another  in  the  same  mail. 

Dear  Sir:  I  have  hunted  the  Oxyjuvenator  up  and 
am  glad  now  that  I  did  not  throw  it  away.  I  used  it 
faithfully  as  directed  in  the  book,  but  got  worse  all  the 
time.  Finally  I  went  to  a  doctor  to  ask  him  to  look  at 
it,  and  he  said  if  I  would  put  it  out  on  an  open  porch 
with  my  bed  on  top  of  it  and  sleep  out  there  he  thought 
it  would  do  less  harm  than  any  other  way.  From  then 
on  I  began  to  get  better,  but  I  know  too  much  to  think 
the  instrument  did  it  and  am  glad  to  get  my  money 
back. 

As  the  newspapers  continued  to  give  publicity  to 
the  work  there  came  a  great  flood  of  letters  from  peo- 
ple whose  claims  were  supported  only  by  their  imagina- 
tions. All  the  people  who  had  ever  bought  any  kind 
of  a  fake  health  apparatus — people  who  had  ever  suf- 
fered any  kind  of  a  swindle — people  who  never  had 
been  swindled  but  were  quite  willing  to  swindle — 
these  and  many  others  poured  in  their  torrent  of  ap- 
peals. It  made  the  work  slower  because  the  genuine 
cases  had  to  be  carefully  sifted  from  the  mass.  But 
though  there  were  many  spurious  letters  there  re- 
mained a  saddening  number  of  the  genuine. 

One  morning  Doane  brought  Mary  a  letter  which 
was  the  most  heart-rending  of  any. 


TWENTY-FOUR   HOURS'    GRACE       277 

Dear  Sir:  I  cannot  return  your  Oxyjuvenator  be- 
cause I  threw  it  in  the  stove.  My  baby  was  the  most 
beautiful  baby  in  the  world,  and  he  was  sick  with  the 
diphthery  last  winter,  and  I  used  it  the  way  the  book 
said  and  kept  on  using  it,  but  he  didn't  get  any  better 
and  finally  I  sent  to  town  for  a  doctor,  and  then  it  was 
too  late !  I  threw  the  thing  in  the  stove.  You  can  keep 
your  money.    It  won't  never  bring  back  my  baby. 

Oh,  the  heartache  of  this  single  letter;  the  heartache 
in  the  writing  of  it  and  the  heartache  in  the  reading 
of  it !  Mary  had  shed  no  tears  over  this  distress  here- 
tofore, but  now  she  buried  her  face  in  the  desk,  safe  in 
the  privacy  of  the  inner  office,  and  wept  for  the  sore 
heart  of  the  young  mother. 

She  felt  a  hand  on  her  shoulder  and  looked  up  into 
the  face  of  Doane. 

"  I  will  go  and  see  this  woman,"  said  he.  "  It  is 
awful  to  think  of  such  misery;  but  it  is  folly  to  say 
that  money  cannot  help.  Perhaps  she  is  already  re- 
gretting her  haste." 

"  Yes,  go,"  said  Mary.  "  Do  everything  that  is  in 
any  way  possible  to  give  her  comfort.  And  I  am  so 
anxious  to  know  just  what  you  do.  I  shall  count  every 
minute.  Let  me  know  just  as  soon  as  you  get  back  to 
town." 

It  was  evening  when  Doane  returned  and  he  was 
obliged  to  seek  Mary  at  her  home.  He  found  her 
alone. 

"Did  you  see  her?"  she  cried.  "Could  you  do 
anything?  Is  there  anything  at  all  that  we  can 
do?" 

"  It  was  a  sad  home,"  he  replied.  "  I  never  for  a 
moment  supposed  that  such  sadness  could  be  wrought 


^78  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

by  what  we  were  doing.  But,  yes,  there  are  things 
we  can  do.  There  are  other  children  and,  as  you 
guessed,  she  is  glad  enough  now  to  let  us  make  up  to 
them.    Oh,  it  is  far  better  than  doing  nothing." 

"  It  is.  It  is !  "  Mary  ejaculated.  "  It  is  doing 
something  and  we  must  not  be  lax  in  it.'' 

He  would  have  been  slow  indeed  had  he  failed  to 
see  this  opportunity. 

"  No,  we  must  not  be  lax  in  it,"  he  said.  "  And  I 
am  bound  to  remind  you  again  that  the  time  is  going 
fast.  Very  soon  and  the  opportunity  will  be  no  longer 
ours." 

"  It  is  true,"  admitted  Mary,  gravely,  and  composed 
as  few  women  could  have  been  under  such  stress.  "  It 
is  true.  But  if  I  decide  now  it  will  not  be  because  I  am 
ready.  I  am  as  unready  as  ever.  I  must  be  honest 
with  you.  I  should  not  consider  your  question  seri- 
ously were  it  not  for  the  urgent  conditions." 

"  That  is  all  right.  Leave  me  out  of  the  question. 
Do  not  consider  me  at  all.  I  will  be  as  nothing.  I 
will  be  non-existent.  I  swear  I  will  not  obtrude  my- 
self. I  hope,  and  I  will  not  conceal  the  hope,  that  the 
day  will  soon  come  when  it  will  be  your  pleasure  to 
take  me  as  your  husband  in  fact  as  well  as  in  name. 
But  now  the  important  thing  is  the  name.  Think  of 
these  poor  people.  Must  it  be  that  our  power  to  help 
them  will  cease  forever  in  a  few  more  days?  There 
are  only  a  couple  more  weeks,  Mary.  Do  you 
not  hear  the  plea  of  your  father  to  restore  four- 
fold?" 

Is  it  a  great  wonder  that  instead  of  the  positive 
"  No ! "  which  had  heretofore  rung  out,  the  white- 
lipped  girl  said  only :  "  Gh,  the  poor  people.  I  must 
do  my  father's  will.    But  give  me  yet  a  day  to  think. 


TWENTY-FOUR   HOURS'    GRACE       279 

Twenty-four  hours!     Come  to  me  in  twenty-four 
hours." 

"  Very  well,"  responded  Doane.  "  It  is  now  nine 
o^clock.  At  nine  to-morrow  evening  I  will  hear  your 
decision." 


XLIII 
MUCH  MAY  HAPPEN  IN  A  DAY 

MARY  STANDLAWS  opened  her  eyes  to  the 
morning  with  a  feeling  of  impending  disaster. 
As  she  shook  off  the  last  shreds  of  troubled 
sleep  she  came  to  a  full  realization  of  her  distress  and 
its  foundation.  This  was  her  sacrificial  day.  She  had 
begged  for  twenty-four  hours,  but  it  was  not  that  it 
would  make  any  difference,  not  that  it  would  bring 
any  enlightenment,  not  that  it  would  lessen  the  urgent 
stress  of  demand  felt  by  her  over-sensitive  conscience. 
The  only  thing  that  so  short  a  time  could  do  might  be 
to  give  some  slight  degree  of  reconciliation  to  the 
decision  and  some  help  to  enter  into  the  compact — she 
could  not  bring  herself  to  call  it  an  engagement — 
with  more  assured  control  and  better  grace. 

She  was  not  to  go  to  the  office,  for  several  days  be- 
fore Johnny  had  chosen  this  day  for  one  of  his  honey- 
moon trips  and  had  inveigled  her  into  a  promise  of 
support  and  company. 

"  And  I  will  not  put  a  shadow  on  their  happy  day," 
she  declared  to  herself.  "  I  will  throw  ofiF  this  de- 
pression and  give  myself  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  day 
as  a  sane  person.'' 

The  resolve  was  easier  than  the  performance,  for 
even  at  the  breakfast  table  she  was  sufficiently  dis- 
traught to  awaken  Johnny's  comment. 

"  She  has  the  appearance  of  the  young  wife  of  Blue- 
beard begging  sister  Ann  to  look  for  the  coming  of  her 

280 


MUCH    MAY    HAPPEN    IN    A   DAY     281 

brothers,"  he  said  to  his  bride;  not  entirely  a  chance 
shot,  for  Mary  had  given  Gladys  her  confidence. 

*'  Sister  Ann  knows  of  but  one  brother  at  all  likely 
to  come  to  Mary's  aid,"  replied  Gladys,  significantly. 

"  He  is  riding  fiercely.  He'll  do  his  best,"  Johnny 
assured  her. 

The  grey  car  and  its  usual  chauffeur  were  ready  for 
their  use.  In  the  cool  freshness  of  the  early  morning 
they  rolled  along  the  splendid  boulevards  of  the  great 
city,  and  passing  from  thence  to  the  well-travelled 
country  roads  still  found  good  rolling  surface.  The 
freshness  had  gone,  and  the  heat  of  the  early  summer 
day  was  just  beginning  to  settle  upon  them,  when 
Johnny  ran  his  car  into  the  cool  shade  of  a  level  wood- 
land road,  which,  after  a  mile  of  winding  in  and  out, 
opened  before  them  and  disclosed  the  lake,  with  a 
little  stretch  of  its  waters  running  right  up  on  a  pleas- 
ant beach. 

"  What  a  delightful  place,"  cried  Mary.  "  I  didn't 
suppose  that  such  a  beauty  spot  existed  so  near  to  us." 

"  It  is,  indeed,  a  beauty  spot,"  Johnny  agreed.  "  It 
is,  for  to-day,  the  property  of  yours  truly  and  a  friend 
who  will  shortly  arrive  with  his  large  family.  I  rather 
think,  in  fact,  that  I  hear  some  of  the  family  now." 

Gladys  looked  at  her  bridegroom  with  menacing 
eyes.  "  You  said  nothing  to  me  about  mixing  us  up 
with  a  family,"  she  declared. 

"  I  am  not  one  to  brag  of  my  benevolences.  I  am  as 
the  shrinking  violet,"  modestly  declared  Johnny.  "  To- 
day we  are  the  hosts." 

Mary  only  smiled.  It  made  no  difference  to  her. 
The  more  people  who  came,  the  more  there  would  be 
to  divert  her  thoughts. 

The  car  announced  by  its  rattle  now  came  into  view 


282  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

around  the  curve.  Without  doubt  it  was  a  family 
car,  in  much  the  same  sense  that  a  horse  becomes  a 
family  horse  after  it  has  seen  its  best  days  and  lost 
the  fire  of  its  youth.  It  was  loaded  full;  it  was  even 
loaded  more  than  full,  for  the  seat  of  the  driver  was 
the  only  one  not  honoured  with  the  compliment  and 
confidence  of  double  carriage.  Mostly  it  was  a  woman 
underneath  and  a  baby  for  the  second  layer.  Scarcely 
had  it  drawn  to  a  stop  before  another  nosed  into  view, 
and  back  of  that  could  be  seen  a  third,  which  after  all 
took  good  place  in  the  rank,  for  there  were  many  to 
follow. 

''A  settlement  picnic!"  ejaculated  the  wondering 
Gladys,  as  she  saw  the  crowd  and  read  the  banners. 
"Johnny,  why  ever  did  you  bring  us?" 

Then  Milton  Stroud  stepped  out  of  the  last  car  and 
she  was  answered. 

"  Yes,  that  is  Stroud,"  admitted  Johnny.  "  It  is  the 
first  of  his  early  summer  fresh-air  outings.  You  saw 
the  cloud  of  dust,  sister  Ann  ?  " 

Johnny  had  little  time  for  making  explanations.  He 
was  living  up  to  the  part  of  host  in  the  whole-hearted 
manner  which  had  been  born  in  him  and  grown  with 
his  growth  of  honest  years.  Was  there  a  shy  woman 
scarcely  knowing  what  she  might  or  might  not  do, 
her  embarrassment  was  scarce  manifest  before  this 
helpful  host  was  making  her  acquaintance  and  giving 
her  the  freedom  of  his  domain.  Was  there  a  little 
mother  with  a  big  baby;  who  like  Johnny  to  relieve 
her  of  her  burden  ?  Was  there  a  group  of  boys,  wild 
and  untamed,  Johnny  must  give  their  energies  an  out- 
let. This  was  no  new  thing  to  him,  and  although 
Gladys  had  not  known  his  full  plans  they  had  been 
thought  out  and  developed  days  ahead.. 


MUCH    MAY    HAPPEN    IN    A    DAY     283 

It  was  not  to  be  supposed  that  institutional  nurses 
could  be  near  such  a  scene  and  not  of  it.  When  Stroud 
found  Mary  she  had  an  ailing  youngster  in  her  arms, 
and  two  who  were  not  ailing  hanging  over  the  back  of 
her  seat,  all  four  confidential  and  happy,  yet  no  more 
happy  than  the  relieved  mothers  who  were  at  rest  for 
once. 

"  Johnny  told  me  he  would  try  to  provide  some 
nurses.  I  might  have  known  you  would  be  willing  to 
come,"  said  the  minister,  heartily. 

"  We  came  on  Johnny's  misrepresentation,"  she  ex- 
plained. "  He  now  says  he  intended  to  give  us  some 
real  pleasure  as  a  surprise.  But  we  are  glad  to  be  here. 
I  can  think  of  no  way  in  which  I  would  prefer  to  spend 
this  particular  day." 

Stroud  could  give  reasons  of  his  own  for  counting 
it  a  particular  day,  but  hers  he  did  not  know. 

**  It  is  always  happiness  to  see  the  pleasure  of  these 
children  and  mothers  in  one  of  our  country  days.  This 
is  the  first  of  the  season  and  you  help  us  to  a  most 
auspicious  opening.  If  you  have  too  many  babies  here 
I  will  take  some  of  them  to  their  mothers." 

"  This  my  muvver,"  said  one  of  the  sturdy  ones 
astride  the  seat-back,  just  old  enough  to  understand, 
and  patting  Mary's  cheek  with  tender  affection  to 
signify  his  preference. 

Mary  flung  her  free  arm  around  him  and  hugged 
his  chubby  little  body  to  her  breast.  "  Of  course  I'm 
his  mother,"  she  cried,  with  a  laugh  of  happiness  such 
as  only  those  who  have  felt  the  pat  of  baby  fingers  can 
understand. 

"  My  muvver  too,"  claimed  the  ailing  one,  snuggling 
his  thin  little  frame  close  in  the  arm  which  he  was 
fortunate  enough  to  occupy. 


^84^  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

"  Tommy  got  two  muvvers,"  solemnly  explained  the 
precocious  number  one.  "  Lovey  muvver  and  pretty 
muvver.'* 

There  could  be  no  thought  of  relieving  her  of  such  a 
precious  load,  and  Stroud  went  his  way,  for  on  such 
a  day  he  was  the  heart  of  the  proceedings  and,  filling 
his  function,  supplied  vitality  to  every  part.  Johnny 
might  reasonably  have  been  classified  as  the  lungs, 
for  he  exhibited  airy,  noisy  characteristics  which  made 
him  the  delight  of  the  older  children,  and  all  the  day 
long  he  superintended  oxygenating  functions  such  as 
excursions  on  the  lake,  wading,  swimming,  foot-races, 
and  swinging,  in  an  exuberant  activity  that  knew  no 
exhaustion. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  before  Stroud  again 
sought  Mary.  The  sturdy  little  chaps  had  gone  to  play 
elsewhere,  but  the  ailing  one  still  demanded  her  atten- 
tion, though  for  the  sake  of  giving  better  rest  she  had 
induced  him  to  lie  in  a  hammock. 

"  We  are  getting  ready  to  go  home,  now,"  said  the 
minister.  ''  I  am  very,  very  glad  that  you  came.  I 
want  this  to  make  an  appeal  to  you — the  appeal  of  the 
living  against  the  dead.  The  appeal  of  the  active, 
triumphant  service  you  can  do  in  the  present  against 
the  atoning  for  a  buried  past.  I  want  you  to  see  what 
it  might  be  to  join  me  in  this  ministry.  I  must  take 
this  boy  to  his  mother,  now." 

Mary's  eyes  were  downcast  but  the  tears  did  not 
flood  them  until  the  little  one  cried  in  protest: 

"  No  go  to  muvver.  Muvver  here.  Pretty  muvver 
carry  Tommy  home." 

It  was  a  weak  thing  to  do.  No  sensible  nurse  would 
yield  to  such  preposterous  pleadings.  But  there  was 
room  in  the  grey  car,  and  the  others  certainly  were 


MUCH    MAY    HAPPEN    IN    A    DAY     285 

overcrowded.  So  Mary  took  the  young  mother  and 
one  of  the  sturdy  ones,  and  frail  Httle  Tommy  had 
his  heart's  desire  in  going  home  with  his  "  pretty 
muvver."  He  lay  in  her  arms,  close  held,  until  he 
was  fast  asleep;  but  although  the  little  head  lay  pil- 
lowed so  close  to  that  throbbing  heart  he  did  not  know 
of  its  tumult,  nor  hear  the  piteous  cry :  "  I  cannot ! 
Oh,  I  cannot!" 


XLIV 
STRIKING  SEVEN 

DOANE  spent  the  day  at  the  office  of  the  Oxy- 
juvenator  Company.  The  day  loomed  before 
him  as  one  of  prodigious  length,  yet  he  had 
many  things  to  occupy  it.  He  desired  to  present  him- 
self, that  night,  at  nine  o'clock,  with  the  argument  of 
a  clean  record,  and  it  entailed  much  preparation.  He 
had  dropped  his  connection  with  and  promulgation  of 
the  Hermann  cure,  just  as  he  had  dropped  the  pose  of 
Doctor  Middane,  at  the  time  he  assumed  his  new 
character  and  position  as  Mary's  manager  in  dispos- 
ing of  the  Doane  fortune  and  making  restitution  to 
Oxyjuvenator  purchasers.  He  did  not  even  style  him- 
self Doctor  Doane,  although  the  degree  of  M.D.  was 
rightfully  his.  It  seemed  best  to  shove  all  of  his 
medical  pretensions  into  the  background  since  none 
were  of  especially  good  odour. 

Doane  had  followed  the  study  of  medicine  and 
secured  his  degree,  at  a  time  when  his  father  thought 
that  the  prestige  of  a  graduate  doctor  at  the  head  of  the 
concern  would  help  to  give  the  Oxyjuvenator  Com- 
pany a  better  standing.  Then  had  come  his  father's 
death,  the  sudden  stoppage  of  his  access  to  the  Doane 
millions  and  even  his  control  of  the  Oxyjuvenator 
profits.  It  was  necessary  that  he  should  make  money 
and  natural  that  he  should  make  it  by  swindling  the 
public,  so  he  had  seized  eagerly  at  the  opportunity 

28S 


STRIKING    SEVEN  287 

offered  by  the  Hermann  cure  and  had  estabhshed  New 
Hope  Sanatorium. 

He  was  now  prepared  to  show  that  this  was  all  in  the 
past,  that  his  skirts  were  clear  of  connection  with  all 
crooked  purposes,  that  he  now  lived  with  the  sole  ob- 
ject of  making  restitution.  He  did  rather  incline  to 
the  opinion  that  fourfold  was  a  little  extreme,  yet  resti- 
tution of  some  sort  was  becoming  a  rather  pleasant 
occupation,  and  even  fourfold  would  not  seriously 
damage  the  Doane  fortune,  for  it  had  grown  a  hun- 
dredfold in  its  passage  through  the  hands  of  a  man 
who  was  a  born  master  of  finance. 

There  was  little  to  divert  him  through  the  long  day 
and  he  rather  welcomed  the  interruption  of  a  man  who 
insisted  on  seeing  him  in  person.  He  was  a  man  of 
foreign  appearance  and  the  dress  of  a  workingman, 
but  he  spoke  very  good  English. 

"  You  remember  me  ? "  he  inquired  of  Doane. 
"  You  sold  me  one  of  those  Oxyjuvenators,  yourself, 
a  few  years  ago.    You  remember  me?  '* 

As  it  happened  Doane  did  remember  him.  He  had 
dealt  with  him  personally  and  the  man  had  peculiarities 
which  made  him  one  to  remember.  He  had  heard  that 
he  was  a  great  leader  in  his  own  class  and  some  spoke 
of  him  as  an  anarchist. 

"  I  think  I  remember  you.  I  am  sorry  about  the 
instrument  if  it  has  harmed  you,  but  we  are  making 
restitution  to  all  who  come,"  he  told  the  man. 

"  Restitution !  '^  cried  the  man.  "  Are  you  able 
to  bring  back  the  dead?  My  daughter — the  one 
that  the  instrument  was  to  cure — ^has  gone  to  her 
grave.'' 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  Doane  assured  him.  "  But  per- 
haps it  is  not  our  fault.    All  that  we  can  do  is  to  give 


288  THE    CASTLE   OF    CHEER 

a  little  financial  help.  No  doubt  you  came  for  that, 
having  heard  what  we  are  doing.  We  are  paying  back 
the  purchase  price  four  times  over  and  interest  added. 
For  our  own  protection,  to  guard  against  being  worked 
again  and  again  with  the  same  instrument,  we  are  ask- 
ing that  it  be  returned  to  us  when  we  refund  the 
money." 

"  So  you  want  the  thing  back  ?  "  asked  the  man. 

"  We  must  have  it  wherever  possible.*' 

"  I  think  I  can  get  it  for  you,''  the  stranger  said, 
with  a  curious  light  of  gratification  in  his  eyes.  "  Will 
you  be  here  when  I  come  back,  if  I  hurry  and  get  back 
this  evening?" 

''  We  close  at  six.  I  shall  be  here  myself  a  little 
later  doing  some  special  work,  but  don't  be  much  later 
or  I  can't  wait.  Seven  o'clock  is  my  limit.  I  have  a 
very  important  engagement  in  another  part  of  town  at 
nine." 

Vance  Doane  was  pacific  indeed  in  such  conciliating 
efforts;  but,  then,  the  man's  daughter  was  dead. 

"  I'll  be  here  long  before  seven,"  exclaimed  the  man, 
as  he  hurried  away.    "  You  wait  for  me." 

In  the  course  of  the  afternoon  Doane  had  the  book- 
keeper look  up  the  case,  and  a  cheque  was  prepared  for 
two  hundred  and  two  dollars  in  settlement. 

At  six  o'clock  the  office  emptied  save  for  Doane,  but 
over  half  an  hour  passed  before  the  visitor  appeared. 
In  his  clenched  hand  he  carried  the  Oxyjuvenator. 
He  laid  the  instrument  carefully  on  a  desk.  It  was 
wrapped  round  and  round  with  the  bulky  conducting- 
cords,  and  clasped  tightly  over  all  were  the  contact 
disks,  so  that  the  only  metal  in  view  was  the  nickelled 
ends.  But  Doane  knew  it  was  the  Oxyjuvenator.  He 
could  tell  it  in  any  guise. 


STRIKING   SEVEN  S89 

The  visitor  scanned  the  check  with  a  curious 
scrutiny. 

"  Two  hundred  and  two  dollars ! "  he  exclaimed. 
"  Why  two  hundred  and  two?  " 

"  You  paid  thirty-five  dollars  for  the  instrument. 
We  multiply  this  by  four  and  add  compound  inter- 
est." 

"  Two  hundred  and  two  dollars  won't  pay  for  my 
girl.    Keep  your  money." 

He  threw  the  cheque  on  the  desk  in  front  of  him. 
Doane  had  another  argument  which  he  had  often 
known  to  work  well.  Going  to  the  safe  he  brought  the 
money  in  bills  and  offered  it  to  him. 

It  was  repulsed  with  scorn. 

"  Give  me  my  girl,"  he  cried.    "  What  is  money?  " 

"  I  am  very  sorry  about  your  daughter,"  said  Doane, 
feeling  how  lame  were  the  words. 

"  Did  you  ever  really  think  you  would  cure  her  ?  " 

A  few  months  ago  Doane  would  have  given  an  em- 
phatic yes.    Now  he  hung  his  head. 

"  I  wonder  if  you  remember  how  you  sold  that  to  me 
and  the  promises  you  gave.  You  were  a  younger  man 
then.  I  also  was  younger — ages  younger.  Do  you  re- 
member how  you  said  it  would  cure  any  case  of  con- 
sumption that  did  not  have  large  cavities?  Do  you 
remember  how  you  examined  Lucia  and  said  she  had 
no  cavities  and  would  be  surely  cured  ?  How  sure  you 
were  that  day.  How  sure  we  were.  You  told  us  to 
use  it  every  evening  at  seven  o'clock  after  I  got  home 
from  work.  Oh,  we  used  it  faithfully.  At  first  we 
felt  sure  she  was  better;  then  soon  we  weren't  so  sure. 
When  we  had  to  admit  she  was  losing  we  examined  all 
the  directions  again  to  see  if  we  had  been  following 
them  exactly." 


^92  THE    CASTLE   OF    CHEER 

stopped  as  he  realized  that  the  sound  did  not  increase 
but  lessened.    He  gazed  around  him  curiously. 

"Tick,  tick,  tick!" 

It  was  clear  now.  The  ticking  came  from  the  thing 
upon  the  desk !  In  a  second  a  thousand  thoughts  raced 
through  his  electrified  brain.  This  man — this  anar- 
chist— what  had  he  planned  ?  What  lay  concealed  be- 
neath the  mass  of  cords  which  wrapped  the  instru- 
ment? 

What  meant  the  tick,  tick,  tick,  which  sounded  now 
so  surely  from  the  ugly  package,  the  inert  machine  ? 

"Tick,  tick,  tick!" 

Another  second  gone !  Dare  he  seize  the  diabolical 
contrivance  and  hurl  it  away?  Suddenly  the  ticking 
was  drowned  in  the  loud  striking  of  the  clock.  He 
flashed  at  the  dial  one  terrified  glance  as  the  words  of 
the  anarchist  came  sweeping  into  his  brain.  It  was 
striking  seven ! 

Johnny  Langston  would  never  know  if  Doane's  con- 
version were  consistent. 

In  the  throng  of  curious  people  which  gathered  so 
quickly  was  a  workman  of  foreign  appearance.  He 
was  very  active  in  helping  to  extinguish  the  flames 
which  sprang  up  in  several  places,  and  he  was  seen  to 
assist  in  lifting  the  dead  form  of  the  doctor.  In  a 
brief  interval  when  he  was  not  seen,  he  picked  up  a 
distorted  instrument  that  might  once  have  resembled 
a  section  of  nickelled  gas-pipe,  and,  evidently  having 
some  interest  in  hiding  the  rod-shaped  affair,  he  hastily 
concealed  it  in  his  clothing. 

The  grey  automobile  was  late,  for  Mary  lingered 
in  depositing  the  frail  little  one  who  had  slept  in  her 


STRIKING    SEVEN  293 

arms;  but  she  knew,  as  she  opened  the  door,  that  she 
was  in  good  time  for  her  engagement. 

Her  maid  met  her  at  the  door. 

"  They've  been  trying  to  get  you  or  Mr.  Langston  on 
the  'phone  for  a  long  time,"  the  girl  declared. 
"  There's  been  a  bad  accident  and  I  think  they  said 
the  works  was  destroyed." 


XLV 

AND  STROUD  KNOCKED  AT  THE  DOOR 

JOHNNY  LANGSTON  was  again  returning  to 
Latham  Centre  in  the  rear  Pullman  of  the  over- 
land express  and  again  did  he  have  Milton  Stroud 
for  a  fellow-passenger,  but,  no  longer  strangers,  they 
had  spent  the  journey  in  the  most  intimate  conversa- 
tion. 

"  Almost  home ! ''  proclaimed  Johnny,  rising  from 
his  seat. 

"  A  year  ago  I  didn't  suppose  it  would  ever  seem 
in  the  least  like  home  to  me,"  said  Stroud,  with  a  laugh. 

"  A  man's  home  is  where  his  treasure  is  kept,"  said 
Johnny,  significantly.    "  Here's  wishing  you  the  best." 

The  explanation  of  this  remark  and  wish  lay  in  the 
fact  that  Mary,  seeking  to  recuperate  from  shock  and 
strain,  had  come  back  to  the  place  which  seemed  to  her 
most  like  home — The  Castle  of  Cheer.  She  had  been 
there  several  weeks  resting,  building  up  her  strength, 
and  waiting  for  her  lawyers  to  tell  her  where  she  stood. 
Stroud  was  an  unannounced  guest  of  Johnny  Lang- 
ston. 

"  Do  you  think  she  will  be  glad  to  know  your  con- 
clusions?" asked  Stroud. 

"  It  is  for  you  to  make  her  glad,"  replied  Johnny. 
"  That  is  why  I  am  bringing  you.  But  I  anticipate  no 
hard  task  for  you.  She  has  been  very  weary  of  the 
Oxyjuvenator  business  for  some  time  past." 

294 


AND  STROUD  KNOCKED  AT  THE  DOOR  295 

"  If  only  we  can  get  her  to  consider  that  her  fa- 
ther's wishes  are  fulfilled." 

"  No  one  can  do  much  more  to  fulfil  them.  With 
the  plant  and  office  destroyed  and  every  record  gone, 
no  one  could  do  anything  more  with  the  Oxyjuvenator 
business  unless  to  invite  every  one  who  has  a  grievance 
to  come  to  the  till  and  put  in  his  hand." 

Stroud  did  not  journey  all  the  way  to  The  Castle 
afoot,  this  time.  He  went  in  the  grey  car  until  the 
gates  were  in  sight. 

"  Let  me  out  here,  Johnny,"  he  begged.  ''  I  don't 
want  her  to  see  me  until  she  has  settled  things  in  her 
mind  a  little.     I  will  come  in  later." 

So  he  walked  along  a  lane  and  through  the  fields 
and  again  entered  the  Castle  grounds  by  the  back  way. 

In  the  grounds  he  found  the  old  doctor,  who  met 
him  with  great  rejoicing. 

"  Yo're  lookin'  something  like,"  cried  the  old  man. 
"  Not  much  like  the  tired-out  tramp  as  come  here  a 
year  ago,  ye  understan'  me.  Reckon  mebbe  ye  come  to 
git  the  perskiption  filled." 

"  I  have  come  to  try,"  he  admitted. 

"An*,  what  ye  feared  about?"  asked  the  doc- 
tor. 

"  Because  I  have  tried  it  with  poor  success  before, 
and  after  all,  conditions  aren't  much  changed." 

"  1  thought  they  was  all  changed.  She  don't  have 
that  money  to  worry  her  no  more,  does  she?" 

"  It's  just  as  she  pleases,  I  understand." 

"  Thought  she  lost  it  all  'cause  she  didn't  marry  the 
man  as  was  killed." 

"  Not  exactly.  Johnny  notified  the  trustees  to  whom 
the  estate  was  supposed  to  revert  that  he  intended  to 
contest  their  claim;  that,  Doane  being  dead,  the  con- 


S96  THE    CASTLE   OF   CHEER 

dition  of  marriage  to  him  was  impossible  of  perform- 
ance and  therefore  Mary's  title  remained  good.  The 
trustees  suggested  a  compromise.  It  seemed  the  old 
man  had  named  them  as  trustees  not  because  of  any 
interest  in  exploring  but  because  they  were  old  cronies. 
He  had  left  no  great  amount  to  the  society  in  any 
event.  His  great  desire  was  that  Mary  should  marry 
his  son  and  make  a  man  of  him.  li  she  did  not  he 
dared  not  trust  the  son  with  more  than  a  competence. 
So,  failing  the  marriage,  he  provided  for  annuities  of 
ten  thousand  dollars  each  to  his  son,  to  Mary,  to 
Gladys,  and  to  the  exploring  society.  All  the  re- 
mainder of  his  estate  was  to  be  a  trust  for  charitable 
and  benevolent  purposes  subject  to  the  control  and  di- 
rection of  such  individuals  or  company  as  the  trustees 
might  designate.  So  these  trustees  offer  a  very  simple 
way  out.  Knowing  why  Mary  desires  the  money 
they  simply  propose  that  the  provisions  of  the  will  be 
followed,  that  they  take  their  annuity,  and  they  will 
designate  Mary  or  anyone  she  chooses  as  the  person 
to  distribute  the  remainder  in  charity." 

"Clever  men!"  commented  the  old  doctor,  beam- 
ing approval.  "  Clever  men !  Ever'buddy  gits  what 
they  wants  an'  no  fightin',  ye  understan'  me." 

"  But  tell  me  what  good  it  does  Mary.  Doesn't  it 
leave  her  with  as  great  a  burden  as  ever?" 

"  It  does  if  Mary  shoulders  the  burden.  But  you 
ain't  the  strong  man  ye  look,  if  so  be  ye  let  her,  ye 
understan'  me." 

"  I'm  only  too  willing  to  relieve  her.  But  I  am  a 
minister  of  the  gospel,  a  man  with  a  charge  to  keep.  I 
have  living  people  needing  my  ministrations.  I  can- 
not give  my  time  to  clearing  the  record  of  the 
dead." 


AND  STROUD  ItNOCKED  AT  THE  DOOR     297 

"  Meanin'  that  she  may  want  to  keep  on  at  what 
she's  been  a-doin\  I  thought  everything  was  burned 
up  so  nobody  could  tell  who  ought  to  be  helped.'* 

"  That's  a  trifling  matter  to  an  ingenious  woman 
like  Mary.  If  she  made  up  her  mind  that  it  was 
the  right  thing  she  would  track  out  the  victims  of  the 
Oxyjuvenator  with  detectives  rather  than  give  them 
up." 

"  And  mebbe  she'd  be  all  right.  She  don't  want 
nobuddy  to  suffer  as  she  can  help,  ye  understan'  me.  I 
was  jest  a-goin'  over  to  see  Mary,  but  I  reckon  mebbe 
I  better  let  you  go  instead." 

"  No,  Doctor,  I  am  not  ready  to  see  her  yet.  You 
go.  Anything  you  can  do  to  get  that  prescription  ready 
for  me  I  shall  appreciate." 

"  I  told  ye  I  wasn't  filling  perskiptions,"  said  the 
doctor.  Yet  he  stepped  into  the  cool  room  where 
Mary  was  resting  with  a  resolve  in  his  heart  to  do 
what  he  could. 

Mary  had  just  heard  from  her  lawyer  the  news 
about  the  estate,  and  was  anxious  to  talk  to  the  doctor 
about  it. 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  would  like  to  do  with  it  all. 
Doctor?  "  she  said,  earnestly.  "  I  would  like  to  give  it 
all  to  you." 

"  I'd  like  it,  daughter;  but  I'm  too  old  to  spend  it. 
The  Castle  of  Cheer  could  use  some  of  it  but  the  rest'd 
be  a  burden." 

"  And  I  have  no  right  to  give  it,  for  put  into  my 
hands  in  this  way,  it  is  more  and  more  incumbent  upon 
me  to  execute  my  trust." 

"  Meanin'  to  pay  back  all  the  pore  folks  as  yore  paw 
an'  his  partner  made  the  money  from?" 

"  Yes,  that  is  my  meaning.    I  still  hear  my  father 


^98  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

say  restore  fourfold.  I  can  have  no  happiness  until  his 
name  is  cleared." 

"  Pride  o'  name !  Pride  o'  family !  How  it  does 
creep  in,  daughter.  It  ain't  nowise  doin'  ye  justice  to 
think  it  takes  a  big  place  in  yore  heart,  yet  it  creeps 
even  into  yore  good  work — pride  o'  name!  Pride  o' 
family!  Is  it  wuth  while  to  count  it  a  purpose  in  life 
to  clear  the  name  o'  one  man — a  dead  man — a  man 
who  ain't  only  sinned  but  long  ago  been  forgiven,  ye 
understan'  me." 

"  Does  he  know,  do  you  think  ?  "  she  asked,  quietly. 

"  Yes,  I  think  he  knows,  daughter.  An'  I  think 
he  loves  ye  for  it.  But  I  think,  too,  that  he  smiles  at 
the  love  that  prompts  ye,  for  he  knows  it's  a  mistake, 
ye  understan'  me.  He's  where  he  can  see  everything 
now — the  big  things  an'  the  little  things — an'  I 
reckon  he's  forgot  'at  there's  any  importance  'bout 
what  folks  thinks  of  a  dead  man's  name." 

"  Doctor !  "  she  cried  in  a  sudden  outburst.  '^  Am  I 
wrong?  Do  you  think  that  he  does  not  care  that  I 
use  this  money  for  his  wish  ?  " 

"There,  there,  daughter.  I  reckon  it's  all  right 
with  him,  ye  understan'  me.  But  it  don't  make  s'  much 
difference  to  him  as  to  us.  He'd  want  ye  to  help  any  o' 
these  people  as  ye  could,  of  course,  but  he'd  be  jest  as 
glad  about  it  if  ye  was  helpin'  them  as  had  been  dam- 
aged by  some  other  party,  jest  so  ye  was  helpin'.  I 
know  some  places  the  money's  done  good.  I  know  that 
what  you  give  Miss  Jolley  was  just  the  makin'  of  her 
and  her  brother,  and  I  know  there's  ben  others,  too. 
But  it's  doubtful  if  givin'  'em  money  often  means  help. 
Johnny  told  me  'bout  the  man  as  took  his  two  hun- 
dred dollars  an'  had  the  greatest  drunk  of  his  life,  an' 
the  man  as  used  his  six  hundred  to  start  a  saloon,  an' 


AND  STROUD  KNOCKED  AT  THE  DOOR  299 

the  man  as  is  writin'  you  to  help  him  sue  the  rubber 
plantation  that  eat  up  his  share — an'  they's  scores  like 
em. 

"  And  you  don't  think  father  would  care  so  much 
about  these  same  people  being  helped?" 

"  No,  daughter,  I  can't  say  as  I  do.  As  long  as  he 
was  here  it  was  his  duty,  if  he'd  done  a  man  harm,  to 
set  it  right,  but  I  don't  know  as  takin'  his  money  an' 
tryin'  to  give  a  little  to  ever'buddy  as  suffered  any 
damage  takes  the  place  o'  this." 

"  Such  a  hopeless  task  as  it  sometimes  seems,  Doc- 
tor. So  many  ways  has  the  trouble  gone  on — so  many 
are  the  people  involved — so  often  has  death  stopped 
any  reparation." 

"  Yes,  daughter.  That's  always  the  way  with  sin. 
The  sinner,  he  can  be  forgiven,  for  there's  a  bound- 
less mercy  great  enough  to  cover  the  worst.  But  the 
sin — it  goes  on  an'  on,  an'  nothin'  can  wipe  it  out,  an' 
nothin'  can  undo  it,  an'  all  the  agonizin'  in  the  world 
won't  make  up  for  it,  an'  all  the  wealth  that  ever  was 
piled  up  won't  pay  for  it." 

"  But  when  the  man  of  old  said,  '  If  I  have  wrong- 
fully exacted  aught  of  any  man  I  restore  fourfold,' 
Jesus  said  at  once,  *  To-day  is  salvation  come  to  this 
house.' " 

"  It  was  jest  like  Him,  daughter ;  jest  like  Jesus, 
that  was.  But  it  wasn't  giving  half  his  goods  to  the 
poor  that  bought  the  man  his  way  into  the  kingdom,  an' 
it  wasn't  a  promise  to  restore  fourfold  that  made  Jesus 
speak  them  happy  words  about  salvation.  It  was 
granted  full  an'  free  by  a  love  'at  don't  ask  a  starved, 
helpless,  sinning  body  to  do  much  more'n  show  willin', 
that's  ready  to  take  a  man  as  quick  as  he  shows  interest 
enough  to  look  for  himself.     All  he'd  done  was  to 


800  THE    CASTLE   OF    CHEER 

climb  a  tree  to  look  over  the  crowd  an'  Jesus  picked 
him  out  an'  give  him  his  chanct.  It  was  jest  the  same 
with  yore  paw.  If  he'd  lived  he'd  tried  to  pay  the 
money  back,  but  it  wouldn't  have  made  him  no  better 
place  in  the  kingdom,  daughter.  He  don't  get  that  for 
what  he's  done.  It's  God's  gift.  He  don't  get  it  for 
what  you  can  do  for  his  name,  daughter.  It's  his 
a'ready." 

She  sat  in  silence  for  a  little  and  he  said  nothing 
more. 

"  Oh,  I  know  it  all,  Doctor.  I  know  all  of  this,  with 
my  mind,"  at  last  she  said.  "  Yet  it  does  seem  that 
I  should  do  something;  that  there  is  some  work  of 
reparation  for  me  to  do." 

"Yes,  that's  yore  nature,  daughter.  You  shorely 
want  to  do  yore  duty.  But  it  ain't  doin*  yore  duty  that 
makes  happiness,  though  ye  can't  well  be  happy  without 
doin'  it.  It  ain't  shuttin'  yoreself  up  to  vows  o'  con- 
secration 'at  makes  happiness,  though  consecration  is 
serene  an'  peaceful.  It's  love  that's  God's  way  for 
happiness  in  this  life.  An'  it's  love  that'll  fill  that 
cravin'  for  something  to  do.  An*,  Mary,  don't  be 
afeared  lest  ye  waste  that  love  on  some  one  who  ain't 
suffered  by  reason  of  the  faults  of  yore  family.  It's 
jest  as  good  to  give  yore  love  to  one  needy  sinner  as 
to  another." 

And  just  then  Stroud  knocked  at  the  door. 


XLVI 
FOURFOLD! 

MILTON  STROUD'S  reception  was  not  one  to 
be  described  in  staring,  written  words.  It  is, 
perhaps,  enough  to  say  that  it  was  entirely 
satisfactory  to  him — and  therefore  should  be  to  us. 
There  were  many  things  to  be  settled,  and  once  they 
were  safely  embarked  on  the  river  of  acknowledged 
mutual  love,  the  vexing  currents  of  repressed  feeling 
no  longer  contending,  they  were  quick  to  find  a  settle- 
ment. 

They  walked  in  the  quiet  country  near  The  Castle, 
next  morning.  Almost  all  the  difficult  points  were 
planned.  They  had  just  decided  that  a  company 
should  be  formed  to  administer  the  Doane  estate  for 
charitable  purposes.  Any  person  who  had  suffered 
from  the  Oxyjuvenator  or  any  other  such  fraud  should 
be  helped,  though  not  necessarily  with  money.  In  each 
state  should  be  established  a  department  for  public 
enlightenment  and  for  exposure  of  medical  charlatans. 

"  And  I  know  exactly  the  man  for  manager  1 "  ex- 
claimed Mary. 

"  He  will  have  to  be  a  good  business  man,"  Stroud 
reminded  her. 

"  He  is.     He  is  a  thoroughly  trained  lawyer.'' 

"  He  should  be  both  able  and  sympathetic,"  urged 
Stroud. 

"  He  is  both !  "  cried  Mary,  delighted. 

801 


602  THE    CASTLE    OF    CHEER 

"  He  must  be  a  man  not  easily  imposed  upon  and 
with  a  wide  knowledge  of  human  nature." 

"  He  meets  the  requirements  exactly,"  she  insisted. 

"  Who  is  this  most  admirable  person  ? "  asked 
Stroud.  "  I  begin  to  have  a  disturbed,  jealous  feel- 
ing." 

*'  You  know  him  well.  He  is  one  of  your  best 
friends." 

"  Not  Johnny  Langston  ?  " 

"Johnny!  No.  I  can  impose  upon  Johnny,  my- 
self." 

''  Then  I  give  up." 

"  I  wonder  at  you.  It  is  Bissington  Jones,  of  course. 
He  has  taken  up  practice  in  Chicago  again,  but  Doctor 
Goodman  says  he  would  do  far  better  at  less  exacting 
work.  He  is  so  brilliant  that  the  demand  for  his  work 
soon  overwhelms  him.  This  will  be  just  the  thing  for 
him." 

**  And  can  you  not  find  something  for  his  friend 
Cassius  and  Mr.  Nein  and  Mrs.  Swenk  and  Luigi  and 
the  nurses  and " 

"  You  have  no  right  to  joke,  sir.  I  wish  I  could 
find  something  for  poor  Cassius,  for  he  doesn't  do 
well  at  all.  But  of  course  Vm  going  to  press  into  serv- 
ice all  of  my  friends  so  far  as  possible.  Johnny  is  to 
be  general  counsel.  Doctor  Goodman  and  Mr.  Holmes 
are  to  act  with  you  as  directors.  Luigi — I  don't  know 
how  we  shall  use  Luigi.  If  I  am  to  give  it  all  up  for 
you  I  must  use  my  friends  to  fill  my  place." 

"  It  will  take  a  great  many  to  fill  it,  but  I  know  they 
will  be  very  happy  to  try.  All  these  things  we  have 
planned  will  use  a  vast  income,  but  there  will  be 
still  a  part  of  the  great  Doane  fortune  for  other  uses." 

The  minister  had  many  plans  in  his  mind  which 


FOURFOLD!  303 

would  offer  great  avenues  for  the  distribution  of  wealth 
destined  for  benevolence,  but  he  preferred  to  leave  all 
suggestions  to  Mary.  A  new  look  of  happiness 
added  joyous  colour  to  the  peace  of  her  countenance 
and  she  was  a  vision  to  charm  the  heart  of  any 
man  and  make  him  feel  that  all  material  things  were 
gross. 

"  Milton ! "  she  cried,  with  radiant  face,  as  she 
slipped  her  hand  into  his  arm  and  turned  his  face 
toward  The  Castle;  "look  now  at  my  vision  of  great 
things.  There  stands  The  Castle  crowning  the  hill, 
beautiful,  even  stately,  the  cottages  clustering  beneath 
its  shelter  like  feudal  dependencies  of  old.  Yet  it  is 
all  too  small  for  the  great  need.  My  vision  sees  a 
Castle  of  Cheer  of  such  proportions  that  no  one  need 
be  turned  away  for  lack  of  room.  Just  yesterday  there 
was  one  such — a  woman — a  pitiable  case.  As  I  saw 
the  hope  fade  from  her  brave,  anxious  face  it  struck 
me  to  the  soul.  And,  Milton,  she  was  one  of  the  poor 
victims  of  the  Hermann  cure.  Let  the  money  enlarge 
The  Castle  and  increase  the  cottages  so  that  there  will 
be  room  for  all  comers;  so  that  no  one  need  ever  be 
denied.'' 

"  It  is  very  appropriate,"  agreed  Stroud.  "  It  could 
do  no  better  work  nor  be  in  better  hands.  It  shall  go 
to  The  Castle." 

"  It  shall  go  to  The  Castle,"  repeated  Mary.  "  As 
we  begin  our  life  together  and  I  try  to  be  your  helper 
in  your  great  work,  may  the  Doane  fortune  start  its 
mission  of  enlarging  and  developing  our  Castle  of 
Cheer.  Let  it  enrich  our  lives  in  giving  us  a  glorified 
fortress  of  hope." 

And  thus  the  fortune  won  by  fraud  and  trickery  be- 
gins a  fourfold  restoration.     It  is  to  enlighten  the 


304  THE    CASTLE   OF   CHEER 

poorly  educated  among  whom  quackery  finds  its  easiest 
victims,  to  relieve  the  poverty  of  body  and  soul  bred  by 
disease,  to  give  health  and  life  to  the  afflicted,  and  to 
point  the  weary  traveller  to  the  way  of  peace.  Four- 
fold! 


PBINTED  IS    THE    UXITED  STATES  OF  AMEBICA 


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